Unspeakable Things
by anon1111
Summary: WIP. Ginny Weasley remembers how the nature of her relationship with Draco Malfoy had changed throughout the course of many years, moving from hate, to friendship, to something more, and then back again.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I own nothing. The Harry Potter verse owns my soul.

First fan-fic- please be nice! Reviews and constructive criticism always appreciated! :)

* * *

 **Shell Cottage, Cornwall, U.K.**

 _Late Autumn, 1998_

"You really don't know how to make tea?" Ginny asked for the third time, since Malfoy had announced a few minutes ago that he wanted a drink.

Malfoy just _looked_ at her with his flat, unreadable grey eyes and folded his arms defensively across his chest.

"I just can't believe that!" Ginny shook her head as she filled the teakettle with water from the tap, "Although, I'm not sure why I'm so surprised."

"Me neither, Ginevra," Malfoy stated flatly, reaching up easily to pull out two mugs from the high shelf of the cupboard, "When the hell would I ever have had a reason to make tea? Especially the _muggle_ way."

"Because nothing is more relaxing at the end of a long day than a cup of steaming, delicious tea?" Ginny turned to look at Malfoy with her eyebrows raised.

"Naw, maybe for a Gryffindor." Malfoy drawled glibly, " _Personally_ , I've always found a couple of tumblers of burning hot firewhisky to do the trick after a hard day. Or rather, after most days."

Malfoy slanted his mischief-filled eyes toward Ginny, letting one corner of his shapely mouth turn up slightly. Ginny couldn't stop a laugh bursting forth, but forced her mouth into a straight line, not without some difficulty.

"Malfoy, be serious." Ginny chided, "Tea is delicious and nice and we're British and you should know how to make it, for goodness sake!"

Ginny crossed her arms protectively in front of her. Ginny had noticed, since being around Malfoy more, that he had an unfortunate habit of turning everything into a joke when it wasn't meant to be one. In doing so, he also had a habit of making Ginny laugh in his presence more than she had ever intended to and it made her feel off balance.

"House elves." Malfoy said simply after a moment, peering into the cardboard box of tea bags that Ginny had pointed out. "What do I do with these?"

Ginny took the box from Malfoy and took out two tea bags, explaining, "You put one in each mug and then pour the hot water over it when it boils. Then you let the tea steep for a couple minutes, depending on how strong you like it, and then take the tea bag out."

Malfoy cocked one slender, slanted eyebrow. "That's it?"

"Well, you can add milk or sugar or both, if you want." Ginny shrugged one shoulder gracefully. "That's it."

"Huh." Malfoy folded his arms and leaned one narrow hip casually against the counter as he listened to the kettle begin to boil.

"What about house elves?" Ginny busied herself pouring water into both teacups, keeping her eyes purposefully on her task. "I hadn't, actually, forgotten that you said that."

Malfoy paused, angling his body away from Ginny, and traced indeterminate lines on the kitchen counter. Ginny had noticed that Malfoy had a tendency to shut down when anything about his old life was mentioned, so had been surprised to hear him bring up house elves. While talking about house elves seemed innocuous enough, it clearly reminded him of his past.

"Never had a reason to make tea on my own before." Malfoy stated finally, shrugging his shoulders elegantly, "On account of the house elves."

The kitchen was silent for thirty, long, echoing ticks of the kitchen clock. Ginny cleared her throat nervously, unsure of what to say, and stirred her tea bag around in her cup. She hazarded a glance at Malfoy and found him staring moodily at his tea, his brow furrowed. That was the other thing about Malfoy, Ginny realized; he didn't have an emotional baseline. He would either make joking, caustically witty remarks about any attempt at a serious conversation, or would turn suddenly, silently, darkly brooding.

Malfoy's preoccupation with his teacup allowed Ginny a rare moment to study his face and, greedily, she took advantage of that. The sharp, cutting lines of his jaw and cheekbones should have been too harsh when combined with the surprising bow of his lips or the rounded shape of his light eyes, but Ginny found herself drawn to the unique aesthetics of his face.

Abruptly, Malfoy turned in Ginny's direction and stated, "Is this thing done yet?"

Ginny jumped and quickly cut her eyes away from Malfoy's face, hoping he hadn't caught her staring at him. Although their initial icy hostility had been melted and slowly tempered into a cautious, malleable camaraderie, Ginny had no doubt that Malfoy would not miss an opportunity to use any perceived weakness of hers against her when one of his dark moods descended. Hopefully he was so preoccupied with his brooding that he hadn't caught the way her eyes had lingered gently on his face.

"It can be. Milk or sugar?" Ginny attempted to act casual as she gestured to the sugar bowl on the counter.

Malfoy shook his head tersely, nodded once at her, and carried his mug out of the kitchen, taking his sudden dark mood with him. Ginny let out a breath as she felt the close atmosphere that had overtaken the kitchen shift and expand at his exit, but it did nothing to lessen the ever-increasing tight feeling in her chest.

* * *

 **Hogwarts**

 _Winter, 1997_

"There's definitely something going on with him," Harry was saying to Ron and Hermione while the three friends sat huddled in front of the fire in the common room. "You guys remember what we saw on the train at the beginning-"

Ginny wrinkled her brow and instinctively leaned closer, straining to hear a response as their voices dropped, all while pretending to do homework at a table across the room. _What had they seen on the train?_ The three of them had been whispering together more than usual lately and Ginny was feeling frustrated at being left out of events again, despite having helped them in the Department of Mysteries last summer. It drove her crazy that Ron and Hermione still considered her too young to be involved and Harry still thought of her as a little sister. Ginny was determined this year to prove to them that she was capable, worthy, and definitely not a little girl.

"-never see him other than classes and he rarely instigates us anymore. He never used to miss a chance to insult us!" Harry whispered fiercely.

Ginny sucked in a breath and sat back slightly, _they_ _must_ _be talking about Malfoy._

"You know, I have noticed that, too." Ron was saying slowly. "And he has been looking even uglier and paler than usual lately."

"I don't think we should assume anything, yet." Hermione said firmly and primly, "It's dangerous to make assumptions. But you're right; we should keep a closer eye on him. It does sound suspicious."

Ginny hastily gathered her items together and hurried towards the door, nearly tripping over her dragging scarf in the process. As she passed the fire, she observed three, identical, startled expressions, outlined starkly in the firelight; they obviously had had no idea she was there.

"Ginny!" Ron called, "Hi! Where are you going?"

Ginny didn't answer as she hurried through the portrait hole and turned in the direction of the library, a plan beginning to take shape in her mind. Ginny had always been observant and was obviously good at staying out of sight and unnoticed; she would have to start paying closer attention to Draco Malfoy.

* * *

Ginny sighed, placed her quill down on the table, and scrunched down in her chair, rubbing her eyes tiredly. It was a Saturday night, yet Ginny was at the library, finishing some assignments that had gotten pushed aside over the past few weeks. At this hour, the library was almost completely devoid of students and no on else was currently in sight. She leaned back in her chair to check the large clock that hung over the center desk in the library: _11:03 pm._ Ginny's eyes widened in realization and she sat up hurriedly, blinking her tired eyes rapidly in an effort to keep them open and alert. She couldn't afford to miss anything this time.

For the past month, since overhearing Harry, Ron, and Hermione in the common room, Ginny had been casually and surreptitiously tracking Draco Malfoy. She had accumulated extensive observations about him in the past four weeks, all of which had been diligently and carefully recorded in a little notebook, which she kept tucked in an inside pocket of her robes. She knew that he went to classes like normal, but always went directly back to his common room after, not stopping to socialize with anyone, as he used to. She knew that he almost never was seen in the Great Hall for meals anymore and had been suspiciously absent from Quidditch practice this past week as well. She also knew that she had seen him ducking by in the halls, head down and shoving harshly through people, and she could have sworn that once it had looked as if he had been crying.

The other thing she knew, and the real reason that had brought her to the library tonight, was this: Every Saturday night, at exactly 11:00 pm, Malfoy showed up at the library. He would remain there, poring over heavy books obtained strictly from the restricted section, for hours. Ginny was never able to figure out how long he lingered there, nor had she yet gathered up the courage to casually walk by in attempt to see what he was doing, as she had fallen asleep on her books for the previous three Saturday nights.

A thud echoed through the high-ceilinged room, and Ginny jumped, recognizing the sound of the heavy library doors closing. Ginny hunched over her books and picked up her quill, but all of her attention was focused on the quick footsteps moving towards the library desk. Ginny chanced a look, using a sheet of hanging, red hair as a curtain, and watched Malfoy quickly flash Madam Pince a note and then continue confidently towards the Restricted Section. Ginny chewed on the end of her quill, staring down at her parchment for several long moments, seeing nothing. _Who on earth would be signing notes for Malfoy to look at suspicious books in the Restricted Section? Professor Snape?_ Ginny jotted a note down in her notebook, and was startled to hear a chair scrape back from only a few tables away.

Ginny hazarded another look up and nearly fell out of her seat when her cautious glance met Malfoy's glinting eyes. While normally Malfoy sat further away and always selected a chair that faced the other direction, this time, he was sitting in a chair that was facing her. He was leaning back in his chair, with his long legs stretched elegantly out in front of him. He was also staring at her unabashedly, and even from this slight distance, Ginny could tell he was smirking. _Is he trying to make me nervous? Scare me off? It won't work._ Even as she thought it, though, Ginny knew that it was working and she cut her eyes down to her book. She could still feel his eyes on her and it was making her skin crawl.

Slowly and methodically, Ginny began to gather her books and parchments together and put them back in her schoolbag, as if it had always been her intention to leave the library at exactly that moment. She forced herself to stand up and could hear Malfoy begin to chuckle. Ginny's eyes narrowed; she hated that she was allowing him to scare her away. With an unflappable expression on her face, Ginny stood and aimed herself towards the exit of the library, directly beyond Malfoy's table.

She kept her head up as she approached and boldly glared at Malfoy, slowing her steps. As she reached his table, Ginny let her eyes nonchalantly drop down to the books spread out before him, noticing at least one of the titles there looked as if it could be a Dark Arts book. She struggled to make out a few words of the title and lodged them in her memory. Malfoy, apparently, had been so preoccupied in making her feel uncomfortable that he hadn't bothered to hide the books until it was too late.

Malfoy's eyebrows were raised in panic and Ginny knew that he knew that she had seen something. Ginny smirked triumphantly, but then he turned to her and his face was contorted into a rictus of horror. His jaw clenched tightly, his expressive mouth twisted with dread, teeth bared like a rabid animal, and the horror expressed in his swirling, light eyes made him look demented. Astonished, Ginny was momentarily frozen in fear ( _too close, I'm too close)_ and wondered if Malfoy was going to curse her or hit her. Then she back-peddled, turning to burst quickly through the library doors.

* * *

It was almost 11:30 and Ginny was so exhausted she thought she could lie down right there on the cold, bare floor and comfortably fall asleep, but she knew that she should go to Professor Dumbledore while the memory of what she had seen was still fresh. She quickened her pace again upon hearing footsteps behind her, worried that it was Malfoy following her. By the time she was nearing Dumbledore's office, she was out of breath and panting. While still hurrying towards the office entrance, she reached down into her bag to find the note she'd had signed by Madam Pince that allowed her to travel back from the library after hours, and bumped into someone, stumbling.

Ginny caught herself and looked up to find Professor McGonagall in front of her, looking typically imposing with a stern and startled expression on her face.

"Miss Weasley, what on earth are you doing running around the halls at this hour?" McGonagall demanded, "Do you have a permission note?"

Ginny thrust the wrinkled scrap of parchment at McGonagall, brushing her hair back from her face and fidgeting impatiently.

McGonagall examined the note quickly and then peered at Ginny over the top of her spectacles, sighing. "Miss Weasley, this note gives you permission solely to go back to your dormitory from the library."

"Yes, but-" Ginny began.

McGonagall pursed her lips, "I was not aware that the location of the Gryffindor dormitory had changed."

" _No_ Professor, it hasn't, but I need to speak with Professor Dumbledore!" Ginny was practically vibrating with repressed energy and bouncing impatiently on her toes, "It's urgent."

McGonagall regarded Ginny for a moment, tilting her head. "Professor Dumbledore is occupied at the moment. I would suggest coming to see him at a more convenient hour. During the daytime, perhaps?" McGonagall said pointedly.

Resigned, Ginny sighed, and nodded, feeling her shoulders slump. McGonagall didn't speak, but neither did she move away. After a moment, she said,

"Unless, of course, there's something I could help you with."

Relieved, Ginny straightened and nodded emphatically,

"Yes, Professor, there is."

Ginny paused and allowed her gaze to meet McGonagall's for several beats.

"I'm worried about Draco Malfoy."


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I own nothing. The Harry Potter verse owns my soul.

First fan-fic- please be nice! Reviews and constructive criticism always appreciated! :)

* * *

Professor McGonagall's wand made several complicated twists and shapes, completing the charm to unlock her office door, and McGonagall beckoned Ginny inside. Even though she was going there voluntarily, Ginny could not help feeling as if she was in trouble. There was something about being in an authority figure's office that always made Ginny's palms feel clammy, no matter the reason for her being there. Ginny cautiously perched on the wooden chair in front of McGonagall's heavy, dark desk as her Head of House settled herself behind it, gesturing for Ginny to speak. When quite a few seconds ticked by and Ginny still had not spoken, McGonagall prompted gently, but not without the slightest edge of impatience,

"I believe you wanted to tell me something about Mr. Malfoy?"

Ginny blinked a few times and gathered her swirling thoughts, before saying,

"Yes, that's right. I-I was in the library just now, finishing up an assignment and I happened to notice that Malfoy was there." Ginny stopped, feeling unsure about how much she should tell McGonagall about how closely she'd been observing Malfoy. "No, that's not right, I _knew_ he'd be there- he's _always_ there at that time- but that's not important-"

Ginny looked up and noticed that McGonagall's brows had lifted and she was frowning at Ginny, with a peculiar expression on her face.

Flushing, Ginny continued, "What IS important is that, when I was leaving, I walked right by his table and I noticed the title of one of the books he had with him. I'm not entirely sure what it was, but it was definitely not for a class assignment."

"What makes you certain of that?" McGonagall had picked up a quill and looked down briefly to jot something on a fresh sheet of parchment on her desk.

"It looked dodgy," Ginny stated vaguely, "It was VERY old and had a creepy symbol on it. And the title was in Latin- I only saw a few words "Tenebris Cognitio"- and I'm not sure what they mean, but I'm certain it must be something dark."

"Hm." McGonagall hummed, adding another note on the parchment. "Was that all you noticed?"

Ginny creased her brow, frustrated that McGonagall did not appear to be as affected by this information as she'd hoped. Defensively, Ginny pushed on,

"Well, that's all I saw on his books, but I know he's into something bad and I didn't know what else to do." Ginny continued heatedly, determined to give McGonagall some piece of information that was important, hoping desperately to prove herself.

Ginny reached into the inner pocket of her robe and pulled out the small notebook she hid there, opened it to the marked page and, ignoring another one of McGonagall's infuriating eyebrow raises, began to speak quickly and passionately,

"He's only been at the midday meal 12 times in the past month and at the evening meal, only 7 times. Not once in the past month have I seen him loitering in the corridors, looking out for people to insult, as he always used to do. He almost always goes straight to his common room after every lesson; I know this because I have followed him every time I could. Just this past week, he quit the Quidditch team, even though we're playing Slytherin next week and he usually never misses an opportunity to go up against Harry. He always goes up to the Owlery at exactly 8 pm every three days in order to both receive and send messages, almost certainly to someone sketchy. "

Ginny paused, closing the book and lifting her eyes, only to notice that McGonagall was staring at her in astonishment, before continuing in a calmer, softer voice,

"I'm also certain that he's not sleeping anymore, because he looks like death warmed over. And when he looked up at me, when I passed him in the library, I swear he looked crazy. Like he was actually insane." Ginny paused, remembering, before saying in a stronger voice, "It was _terri_ fying."

The room was silent, as McGonagall looked expectantly at Ginny to see if she might say anything else. Ginny sat back in her chair, sucking in a deep breath and letting it out in a quivering whoosh. She felt unnerved by the weight of Professor McGonagall's gaze on her and shifted her eyes down, unable to maintain eye contact. Professor McGonagall was one of her favorite teachers, but Merlin, if she wasn't incredibly intimidating.

"My." McGonagall finally said simply, leaning heavily back in her chair. "You have been busy. I hope you're not letting your classes slip, what with all of this espionage. Have you considered a career as a spy?"

Ginny turned bright red and her brows lowered darkly, "I don't appreciate being made fun of, Professor. I am genuinely worried and I want something done about him."

McGonagall folded her hands together and rested her chin on them, leaving forward as she considered Ginny over the tops of her fingers for a long moment. Feeling embarrassed and on edge, Ginny made herself sit up straight and meet McGonagall's gaze, instead of shrinking down in her chair until she was hidden behind the huge desk, as she was tempted to do. She hated being the center of attention and it was terrifying to have McGonagall's attention now so sharply focused on her, given all that she had shared. Ginny wished, not for the first time, that she knew Legilimency, so she could know what her professor was thinking. She wanted so badly to leave the office, to retreat, to say, _Nevermind, Professor, I made it all up_. I'm sure there's nothing to worry about, but it was too late to back down now.

Finally, McGonagall cleared her throat and spoke slowly and carefully,

"When you asked to speak with me tonight, you said you were worried about Draco Malfoy. And now you've almost said it again. This strikes me as an interesting way to phrase it, especially considering your history with him."

Ginny's brows furrowed, and she wondered where McGonagall was taking this train of thought, feeling uncomfortable and much too exposed.

"Saying that you are worried about someone generally implies you are concerned for their well-being." McGonagall clarified, "Is that what you meant by your concern regarding Mr. Malfoy, or did you simply mean-

"I'm not concerned about Malfoy!" Ginny spat, her eyes flashing up to meet McGonagall's, feeling confused as a sudden, hot anger burned through her and spread in a heated blush across her face and upper chest. "That is NOT what I meant."

McGonagall raised her hands defensively and she sat back in her chair, "'I'm not accusing you of anything, Ms. Weasley, I'm simply trying to understand why you came to me tonight."

Ginny stood up quickly from her chair, almost knocking it over in the process, aware that her bag had fallen and its contents had spilled all over the ground underneath McGonagall's desk. Pressing the backs of her hands against her cheeks to try to cool her heated skin, as well as to calm her sudden anger, Ginny took a breath and said,

"I came to you tonight because I noticed something suspicious and I thought someone in charge should know about it! That's all. I was just trying to do the right thing. Can I go now?"

McGonagall pursed her lips, and nodded once sharply. "Of course. Thank you for letting me know your concerns, Ms. Weasley. I will look into it."

"Good." Ginny stated harshly, then more gently, "Night, Professor."

Ginny bent on shaking legs to gather her parchments, books, and quills back into her bag as quickly as she could before McGonagall could think to ask her something else. She heard the sound of parchment crumpling and tearing as a heavy textbook crushed it and she heard the snap of what she suspected was a quill (her only quill!) breaking at the bottom of her bag, but she rushed out of the room anyway. Ginny knew that she had brought the interrogation on herself by telling McGonagall, but she wanted nothing more than to be tucked safely into her dormitory, away from probing questions and thoughts of the look in Draco Malfoy's haunted eyes.

* * *

Ginny cracked an eye open when she became aware that someone was grasping her upper arm and shaking it. She frowned, irritated, and rolled over in bed, pulling a pillow over her head.

"Ginny! Wake up! It's past 9:00!"

"Go away, Dem. I'm sleeping." Ginny growled at her friend. Having gotten back to her dormitory well past midnight and having spent most of the night tossing and turning, unable to sleep, Ginny was not feeling particularly anxious to get up this morning, not that she was ever really a morning person.

Elizabeth whispered loudly, "She hasn't been getting much sleep lately, we should probably leave her alone."

"Fine," Demelza gave up with a shrug, "Elizabeth and I are going to breakfast now. Meet us there if you want, or don't. We couldn't care less. Don't forget we have Quidditch practice at 3- big match coming up this Saturday!"

Ginny let out a groan at this reminder about the Gryffindor vs. Slytherin match this coming weekend, and immediately found herself reminded about Malfoy, suppressing a shudder as she remembered the expression on his face. She wished that her conversation with McGonagall had gone better; Ginny really didn't feel like she'd given a good enough impression with her worries about what he was getting into. She rolled over onto her back again and sighed heavily as she sat up, realizing that there was no chance of going back to sleep now. She quickly threw on an old pair of jeans, a too large jumper, stuffed her feet into her scuffed boots, grabbed her book bag, and hurried out the door to meet her friends.

As she clomped down the stairs towards the common room, attempting to finger-comb the snarls out of her long hair, she nearly ran into someone who was headed upstairs, face hidden behind a book.

"Oh, sorry!" said Hermione, before her face lit up in recognition, "Ginny, hi! How are you?"

Interactions with Hermione had always been tense, as the two had never gotten along too well, especially lately. Ginny could tell that Hermione thought Ginny was too young ( _which was ridiculous, she was only one year behind Ron_ ) and too unskilled ( _also ridiculous- didn't anyone remember her bat-bogey hexes from last year?_ ) to be let into her posse with Harry and Ron, while Ginny generally found Hermione to be a pompous know-it-all, on par with her older brother Percy.

Ginny pasted on a simpering smile, "Hi."

"How are you?" Hermione always attempted to be friendly with Ginny, but her attempts had started to seem even phonier, so Ginny had begun to enjoy going out of her way to make each conversation as awkward as possible. Now, Ginny persisted in staring blandly at Hermione, making no further attempt at conversation. With an immature feeling of vindication, Ginny noticed smugly that Hermione was rattled when the older girl crossed her arms defensively and broke eye contact, her brows lowering with hurt. Satisfied, Ginny continued downstairs past her, pausing briefly when Hermione called,

"Ron's been looking for you all morning. I told him I would tell you if I saw you."

Facing away from Hermione now, Ginny rolled her eyes and groaned. She was definitely not in the mood for dealing with Ron right now. Although Ginny knew that Ron generally meant well, he was clumsy and awkward with thoughts and feelings and usually came across as an over-protective, irrational jerk when interacting with his slightly younger sister.

"I'm busy now," Ginny said shortly, without turning around to look at Hermione, "Tell him I'll see him at Quidditch practice later."

* * *

Ginny stopped at the entrance of the Great Hall to survey the room quickly before moving over to the Gryffindor table. Instinctively, her eyes roved over to the Slytherin table and she received a jolt of surprise when she recognized Malfoy's pale hair. Ginny tilted her head to the side and she continued to stare at him in shock as her heart started to pound. He hasn't been at breakfast almost at all this month! Why is he here? Malfoy wasn't sitting in his usual spot, which Ginny knew to be in the center of the table, facing towards the room, surrounded by his lackey housemates. Instead, he was conspicuously seated alone at the far end and was facing the wall.

"Ginny, over here!" Demelza called unnecessarily, and Ginny spotted her dark head next to Elizabeth's blonde curls at their usual spot at the table. Ginny shook herself once and hurried over to her friends, before anyone noticed her suspiciously eyeing the Slytherin table. She sat down next to Elizabeth and stared blankly at the food in front of her; she didn't think she could bring herself to eat a bite.

"You should eat, you know," Elizabeth encouraged kindly when she noticed Ginny hadn't served herself anything. "Long practice this afternoon, and all."

Ginny sighed and without any interest at all, took a spoonful of eggs, pushing them half-heartedly around on her plate. She was distantly aware of Demelza and Elizabeth talking about the upcoming Hogsmeade Trip next weekend and their plans for doing some shopping, but wasn't able to follow enough of the conversation to be an active participant. Ginny was unable to stop herself from continuing to cast surreptitious glances over at the Slytherin table. Malfoy was still over there and still alone. She watched as he bent down and reached into his satchel, pulling out a book and propping it against his glass of pumpkin juice. Ginny was lifting herself off the bench a bit, tilting her chin up in an effort see what he was reading, when Demelza called her name loudly.

"What?" Ginny asked innocently as she slumped back down, cheeks reddening as she noticed her friends, and a few others sitting near her, were staring at her in bewilderment.

"Is there a reason why you're craning your neck to stare so blatantly at the Slytherin table...?" Demelza asked slowly, as if Ginny were a small and particularly slow child.

Ginny blanched and then turned red, realizing that she'd been way too obvious; her lack of sleep seemed to have affected her usual skillful observation. Ginny shook her head and then racked her tired brain, tripping over her words as she scrambled clumsily for an excuse,

"Uhm, no, I-I just thought I saw Ron over there. Hermione said he needed to talk to me."

Elizabeth and Demelza both leveled a skeptical gaze at her, but thankfully they didn't raise the subject again and went back to eating their breakfast. Her friends knew her too well, especially given that Ginny was more likely to be hiding from Ron than actively seeking him out, and Ginny knew that she hadn't heard the end of this conversation.

"Hey, Dem," Jimmy Peakes slid into the empty spot next to Demelza, stole a piece of toast of her plate, and pushed back a lock of shaggy blonde hair as he looked up at her and Ginny, "You guys ready for practice tonight? Potter looks like he's in a pissy mood; I bet it's going to be a rough one."

"Be nice, Peakes," Ginny scowled, unable to help herself from defending Harry, even with her thoughts elsewhere, "He's going through stuff right now."

"He's always going through stuff," Jimmy complained around a mouthful of toast, "He doesn't have to torture us because of it."

From the other side of the room, a bench scraped back loudly and Elizabeth and Ginny looked up as Draco Malfoy stalked out of the Great Hall, still alone. Demelza, who had been about to respond to Jimmy, turned around when she noticed their attention was occupied and sighed, a surprisingly wistful edge to her voice,

"I can't tell if Malfoy's actually gotten hotter, or if it's just that whole dark, mysterious thing he's got going on right now. Either way, it's really working for me."

Demelza had a habit of saying shocking things like this and Ginny and Elizabeth were used to it, but still, Ginny looked up in shock at this pronouncement. Malfoy, hot? All Ginny could remember was the crazed expression on his face when she had seen him in the library last night and she shivered involuntarily, not for the first time.

"Ew, Demelza, that's gross! That's MALFOY you're talking about." Jimmy was staring at Demelza with a look of horror and disgust on his face. "I don't even know who you are anymore," he continued in mock-horrified tones, shooting her a quick smile, before getting up and joining a group of his friends further down the table.

"Really, Demelza," Elizabeth admonished gently, staring at the doorway where Malfoy had disappeared with a surprisingly fierce expression on her face. "That's not really something to joke about. Malfoy's a _jerk_."

"I'm joking! Gosh. Can no one take a bloody joke?" Demelza sighed and shook her head, before her dark eyes lit up with mischief and she continued," Well, half-joking, actually… or maybe a quarter joking. I dunno, there's something about him…."

" _Stop_ ," Elizabeth whispered fiercely, her light eyebrows drawn low over bright blue eyes, "He's creepy. And he's horrible. I'm a muggle-born, remember?"

Demelza's face fell and she looked back at Elizabeth, a cautious apology in her eyes, but Elizabeth was still avoiding her friend's gaze. Ginny had remained suspiciously silent throughout this whole exchange, as she had been quietly gathering her bag and robe. She stood up suddenly, catching the attention of her feuding friends, who looked up, united again with identical looks of confusion on their faces.

"Ginny?" Elizabeth asked hesitantly, but Ginny was already moving with measured, purposeful steps towards the door.

"Where are you going?" Demelza called, "You didn't even eat breakfast!"

Ginny hesitated and fumbled for an explanation, "I just need to check some stuff. At the library. I'll see you at practice, Dem." She waved quickly at her friends, who were staring at her in exasperation, and then hurried out the door, wondering which way Malfoy had gone. She didn't notice that McGonagall had been watching her from the head table and was now staring curiously after her.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I own nothing.

A/N: Not sure if anyone is following this story, but those were the 3 chapters that I pretty much had written. I have plans for everything else, but the next chapter might be a bit!

* * *

Ginny rushed frantically down the main staircase, her overlarge robe flapping irritatingly at her ankles and her book bag thumping with dull _thwacks_ against her right hip. Panicked, she looked up at the large clock over the heavy doors that led immediately out to the school grounds, and further, to the Quidditch Pitch. The minute hand was positioned just a hairs breadth before the hour and she knew there was no way she would make it down to the pitch, dressed in her uniform, by 3:00. As she ran across the grounds, nearing the locker room building, she heard the steady chiming of the bell and flinched; Harry was going to kill her, but maybe she would miss part of his inevitable, rambling, pre-practice speech.

Ginny hurried outside, mind swirling with the conversation she'd just had with McGonagall. After breakfast this morning, she had tried to follow Malfoy out of the Great Hall, but had been unable to figure out which way he'd gone. Giving up, she'd decided to go to the library to attempt some work, but had been distracted and un-focused the whole time. While drifting listlessly over a half-finished Charms essay, Ginny had been startled to see glance up and see Professor McGonagall standing over her.

McGonagall had warned her not to attempt to get too close to Draco Malfoy, having noticed her attempt to follow him this morning. It appeared that her Head of House was concerned with the amount of attention she had been giving to Malfoy and expressed concern for her safety. Ginny had felt silly and reprimanded, as if she were a small child, unable to realize the danger of her actions. She definitely realized following Malfoy around was dangerous, but against her rational nature, she was inexplicably drawn to him and she wasn't sure if she would be able to stop.

A few minutes past three o'clock, Ginny finally skidded onto the Quidditch pitch, sloppily dressed in her practice kit with her hand-me down broom balanced over her left shoulder. Harry flashed her a brief, disapproving glare from behind his glasses, and Ginny shrank bank, chastised, nearly bumping into Demelza. Her friend shot her a questioning look; Ginny was almost never late to practice, usually arriving early so she could get in a quick jog or do some strengthening warm-ups, so she could guess why her teammates were so curious. Ginny ignored her and forced herself to face the front of the small cluster of red and gold-garbed Quidditch players, where Harry was gesticulating passionately, a desperate look in his green eyes.

"-need to be at the TOP of our game when we play Slytherin on Saturday. I'm _not_ going to have the same situation happen as last year; I don't care how ahead we think we are with points, I want you Chasers to be scoring as much as you bloody well can. You _mustn't_ let your guard down for even one second! They are _bound_ to be ruthless, the bloody, conceited, bastards, and will take _any_ opportunity to strike like the cowardly snakes that they are."

Ginny and Demelza shared a startled glance with Dean Thomas, Katie Bell's temporary replacement Chaser, raising their eyebrows in surprise. Harry's speech was surprisingly ruthless this time around. Ginny noticed even her brother was shifting around awkwardly, avoiding Harry's flashing eyes.

"-Peakes and Coote I want you to practice those new defensive tactics today; we really need to get those _sharp!_ Last practice, we were looking pretty sloppy with those."

Jimmy and Ritchie looked down, shuffling their feet.

Relentlessly, Harry turned his wild-eyed gaze to the rest of the team, "I don't care if Malfoy bought his way onto the team with his stupid, bloody money and stupid fancy brooms, I am a better seeker than him and we are a better team than them!" Harry broke off, breathing harshly, glaring around at his teammates, all of whom avoided his eye contact and shuffled around amongst themselves.

"Huzzah," Jimmy raised a fist half-heartedly, before shrinking back at Harry's glower.

After a beat, Ginny realized something about what Harry had said and cleared her throat nervously, "Uh, Harry? I don't think we have to worry about Malfoy…"

Harry's eyes flicked to hers, and his dark brows creased, "What? What do you mean?"

Ginny was aware that her team members were staring at her in confusion. She felt her heart beating and she cleared her throat reflexively again, although she knew she didn't have anything stuck in it.

"No, I just mean….well, he's quit the team, hasn't he?" Ginny stated shortly. "He hasn't been on the team since last Tuesday. Didn't you know?"

Harry's mouth dropped open and his eyes widened a fraction. "Malfoy's quit the team? Who's seeker, then?"

"I dunno," Ginny shrugged, feeling self-conscious, stepping back and trying to avoid the weight of Demelza's accusing stare on her back, "All I know is that it's definitely _not_ Malfoy."

"Well," Harry gathered himself together and seemed to give himself a shake, "This doesn't change anything. Everything I said still stands. Beaters, to this end of the field with me to practice the defensive maneuvers! Chasers, and you too Ron, to the far end!"

As the team collectively mounted their brooms and took off, Jimmy brought his broom up alongside Ginny and Demelza, who were still caught in a non-verbal battle of glares (on Dem's part) and avoidance (on Ginny's).

"What did I tell you about Potter, eh? This practice is going to be awful." Peakes said glumly.

Noticing the straggling Chasers and Beater, Harry glanced behind him and motioned them forward with a sharp gesture.

Demelza gave Ginny one more meaningful look, "We're talking about this _later_ , Ginny," and then flew off after Jimmy, throwing her head back in laughter as she pulled up beside him.

* * *

After practice, Ginny concentrated on showering and getting dressed as quickly as possible, knowing that Ron, and now Demelza too, were going to try to intercept her before she could rush back to the castle alone. Although she knew she could only put off the inevitable confrontations for so long, she just did not have it in her today, sleep deprived as she was, and especially after _that_ practice. Merlin, Harry had worked them to death today, calling out commands and to repeat plays again and again and again.

Ginny dropped her arms down and gave her sore thigh muscles a massage, letting her head _thump_ back against the lockers and closing her eyes. It felt good to let her overtired eyes rest and she reached up, giving her temples a gentle knead, forgetting for a moment that she was supposed to be in a hurry.

"Hey, Ginny," Demelza slid onto the bench next to Ginny, thwacking her on the leg with her hand, none too gently. "So, why were you late to practice, then?"

Ginny looked up slowly, and dragged a hand down her face, "I was in the library and I lost track of time," she said easily, the half-lie quick on her tongue, having previously created it.

Demelza gave Ginny a dubious look; "You've been spending a lot of time in the library lately. Lots of studying to do? I haven't had an over abundance of assignments lately and we share all the same classes."

Ginny remained quiet, knowing that anything she said would just ignite the fire under Demelza's suspicion. In the silence that stretched between them, Ginny was aware of Demelza considering her gravely, and it unnerved her, as Dem was more likely to be laughing, than she was to be staring at Ginny with somber, dark eyes, as she was now.

"Gin." Demelza pleaded somberly, "I can tell something is wrong."

Ginny's throat tightened at the caring note in her friend's voice and she shook her head repeatedly, her wet hair slipping around her shoulders.

Demelza continued gently, "You haven't been sleeping and I never see you anymore. You rushed out at breakfast today without even eating anything and you spend all your time in the library, at least that's where you say you are, and- and- you've been acting weird about Malfoy- "

Ginny flinched, unable to stop her reaction and silently cursing her friend for being so surprisingly perceptive.

"See, you just did it again!" Demelza reached towards Ginny, "Has he done something? Ginny, has he hurt you or something? You need to tell-"

"Dem." Ginny said sharply, shrugging off the arm that Demelza had put on Ginny's shoulder, standing up and side-stepping out of her friend's attempted embrace, "Look, I appreciate the concern, but I'm alright. Malfoy hasn't done anything to me. I just have a lot on my plate. But I'm fine-" Ginny broke off quickly, and then hurried out of the changing room before Demelza could ask anything else.

* * *

"I had the most curious conversation with Ginny Weasley last night," Minerva McGonagall was saying carefully to Severus Snape, while she looked around the dank, dingy Potions classroom with a faint expression of distaste.

Snape spared McGonagall a brief, bored glance, before returning his attention to stirring the solution in the cauldron before him, "I doubt I could find anything remotely interesting about a conversation between you and Ms. Weasley."

McGonagall chuckled, "Oh, I think you might find something of significance about this one." She leveled a significant look at Snape, before continuing, "She spoke to me at great length about a student in your house, about whom she is concerned."

Snape's head snapped up, "Concerned? As in, for our safety, you mean. She's concerned this person is potentially dangerous."

"Not quite. Yes, some of this concern is the concern of which you speak." McGonagall stated enigmatically. "Yet, she also spoke about this student as if she is truly concerned for _his_ safety.

"Enough of the cryptic messages, Minerva." Snape stated levelly, "To whom are you referring?

McGonagall smiled serenely, "Draco Malfoy."

The slight lifting of one dark, slanted eyebrow was the only subtle sign to indicate that Snape had heard her.

"I assume you've been keeping an eye on him this year...?" McGonagall continued.

"Of course." Snape snapped shortly.

"Well, apparently Ms. Weasley has had her eye on him as well. She has raised a number of observations about his state of mind that she seems to find quite troubling. I'm not even sure if she realizes how much it comes across that she appears to be doing this for his best interests, and not to use the information against him." McGonagall mused.

"I've noticed that he has been having some… struggles." Snape said delicately.

"Well, that's putting it lightly! She reports that he has become socially withdrawn, rarely eats or sleeps, and spends most of his time buried in books at the library. "

Snape nodded, "I had noticed this as well. I needed to be sure of some things before pursuing the matter further."

"It is time." Minerva stated emphatically, "You must intervene on his behalf, Severus."

Snape glanced up, dark eyes flashing beneath heavy brows, "Will you inform Albus?"

McGonagall sniffed, and turned away, "I see no need. He has enough on his plate with Mr. Potter, after all."

Snape sighed heavily and continued stirring the potion, "I can't promise what I can do, or if he will even accept my help. I seem to have …fallen out of favor with him."

McGonagall pursed her lips and frowned, "Please, try your best. You're the only one of us likely to have any chance of reaching him. And, you of all people should be able to feel for what he's going through."

* * *

 **Shell Cottage, Cornwall, U.K.**

 _Late Summer, 1998_

"Tell me honestly Bill, how has he been?" Ginny asked her older brother, looking down and digging the toe of her scuffed trainer into the dirt pathway leading up to the building on the top of the hill. "A conceited git like always, I expect?"

Bill Weasley titled his head down to consider his glum-expressioned kid sister, asking bluntly, "If you're so disinclined to him, Gin, why did you agree to come here?"

Ginny's eyes flashed darkly as she looked up at the homey looking cottage above them. The dusty path led gently up the sloping hill to a small, whitewashed cottage, its battered exterior evidence of its isolated location on the top of a cliff above the beating ocean. The cottage stood alone; surrounded by nothing but rolling fields and open sky. Inside, she knew, waited Draco Malfoy, and she found herself feeling inexplicably nervous. The last time she'd seen him was NOT a good memory and she found her insides were twisted into knots. _How am I supposed to act? How will HE act?_ Ginny shook herself, letting her thoughts drift back to the present, when she became aware of Bill waving a hand in front of her face.

"You going to be O.K., Gin?" Bill asked, a crease appearing between his brows, "Honestly, he really has been fine. Cooperative, polite, no issues…"

Ginny lifted her brows briefly, blowing air out through her nose in a quick, disbelieving burst.

"Sure, it'll be fine. I can handle Malfoy," Ginny said, with more bravado than she felt, and started marching up the path to the house. The front door burst open when they got close and a young woman with long, shimmering, blonde hair smiled at them, putting her arms around Bill as they stood in the doorway.

"'Ello, Ginny! Eet ees good to see you!" Fleur turned her bright smile towards Ginny, who barely looked up, attempting to peer around her sister-in-law into the interior of the house. Fleur sighed, keeping her arm on Bill's, and led the way inside. Ginny felt as if she was walking to her execution and forced herself to appear nonchalant and unconcerned; she would _not_ let Malfoy see how much he rattled her.

Inside, the front hallway opened up into a cozy kitchen at the back of the house and a sitting room on the right side. A room with a closed door was on the left side, just beyond the narrow staircase. Ginny trailed behind Bill and Fleur, following them into the kitchen. She was vaguely aware of the _thunk_ of something hitting the table and the scrape of a chair as they entered the kitchen and then she turned the corner and he was standing there, shifting his weight between both feet, looking startled and distinctly uncomfortable. He looked nearly the same as he had the last time she'd seen him, except now his pale skin had a sun touched tone to it and his shoulders appeared imperceptibly broader. Ginny flinched and looked down when she became aware that his cold, silver gaze had met hers.

"What is it, Weasley?" he said sharply, his voice thin and tight, "Did you forget how handsome I was?"

It was a weak attempt; it was clear he was reaching for something and the tone of his voice lacked his typical acerbity, but Ginny found herself flaring up with anger despite herself.

"Oh shut up, you arrogant, complete, arse-hole!" Ginny shouted, then paused to look at him with narrowed eyes and tilted head, "I just had no idea that it was possible for you to get tan; it looks weird."

"It looks weird?" Draco let out a laugh, clearly forced, and then sneered at Ginny, "Really? That's the best you could come up with?"

"Don't worry, I'm out of practice," Ginny snapped, "A few more days with you and we'll be back at it, again."

"I don't intend to spend ANY days _with_ you, Weasley," Malfoy stated haughtily, tilting his chin up and sniffing down at her, "Wouldn't want to get _germs_."

"Well, _that's_ hardly going to be possible." Ginny said smugly, allowing an out of character smirk to cross her lips, "I get to follow your every move, don't I? Don't you remember that _you're_ on probation here and _I_ get to keep an eye on you?"

Bill and Fleur were staring at them, open-mouthed and frozen with shock, having never seen the two interact before.

Draco lunged towards Ginny, practically snarling, "Why can't you just bloody keep your freckled nose out of my business? You bloody, interfering, bin-"

Fleur gasped, her hands flying to her mouth and Bill stepped forward, putting his hand on Malfoy's chest and giving him a light shove backwards, "That's enough, Malfoy. Take a breath. And it would probably serve you well to remember that that's my little _sister_ you're talking about."

Malfoy clenched his jaw once, but stepped back, glaring mutinously around at the room in general and breathing heavily through flaring nostrils.

"Well," Fleur said brightly after a moment, clapping her hands together, "Eesn't 'zis off to a great start?"

* * *

 **Hogwarts**

 _Early Spring, 1997_

Ginny cautiously crept around the corner, feeling scared and uncertain, touching the wand hiding in her robe pocket with nervous fingers. _Malfoy had been right there, a few yards in front of her, where had he gone?_ She looked down the empty hallway to her left and then to the right, before edging a few steps down the hallway on the left. Suddenly, Ginny felt a firm icy grip on her wrist and she was yanked unceremoniously into a hidden alcove behind a statue of Caedus the Cunning. Ginny gasped, and looked up into the tortured, tempestuous gray eyes of Draco Malfoy. Furious, she tried to wrench her arm away from him, but Malfoy's grip was tight and unforgiving, and she knew that she would find bruises on her wrist later in the shape of Malfoy's fingers.

"Ow, Malfoy, what the _hell_?" Ginny spat fiercely.

Malfoy's eyes were closed off and shuttered again, unflinching as he looked down at her, "What is the littlest weasel doing down in the dungeons?"

Ginny was too startled to respond, feeling ridiculously stupid about the dangerous position she had put herself in by following Malfoy, as he loomed over her, still gripping her wrist tightly with his long, frozen fingers. He had pulled her so close she had to crane her head back to look at him and she became aware of an unfamiliar stale, spicy smell overwhelming her nose; expensive cologne soured by sweat and nerves.

"Why are you following me, little Weasley?" Malfoy hissed harshly, yanking her arm slightly, "Don't think I haven't noticed that you have been for weeks now. I see you every Saturday night when I am in the library!"

Ginny shrank back and dropped her gaze from his, worrying one corner of her bottom lip between her teeth, as she did when she was nervous. She figured that Malfoy had noticed her attention on him; she hadn't deluded herself into thinking that she was exactly discrete, and she wondered how she was going to explain this away.

"Are you spying on me for Potter? Malfoy asked, raising his wand to point it at Ginny.

Ginny said nothing, shifting her weight nervously on shaking legs. She had never voluntarily been this close to Draco Malfoy before and it made her feel uneasy and panicky.

"You are, aren't you? You'd do anything for him." Malfoy drawled gleefully, leaning closer to her in an attempt to catch her guilty expression as she turned her burning face away. "Trying to prove yourself to him? That you're good enough?"

Ginny knew he was completely right and the shame and embarrassment of being so transparent flooded through her in waves, especially given that it was Malfoy who had seen through her. Ginny felt anger rising, twisting in her stomach and burning up through her esophagus, filling the back of her mouth with a sharp, bitter taste. She swallowed thickly, choking back the bile, and narrowed her eyes to glare fiercely at Malfoy, waves of contempt radiating from her.

"I've seen how you look at him." Malfoy continued elatedly, his unexpectedly well-formed lips twisting into a nasty sneer, "It's pathetic! You might be a filthy Weasley, but at least you're a pureblood."

"Shut UP!" The dam of Ginny's anger burst and her right hand clenched her still concealed wand with a white-knuckled fist. "You don't know _anything_."

"I know _everything_. I know everything that is going on at this miserable, forsaken school! I've learned and done things you wouldn't believe!" Draco leaned close again, snarling with a curling upper lip, and Ginny could smell something sharp and bitter on his breath as it accosted her face. _Was he drunk?_ "Things are going to change this year and I will finally have the glory and respect I deserve."

The only sounds were Malfoy's ragged breaths, the slow drip of condensation sliding down the damp ceiling onto the stone ground, and from further down the long passageway, the steady clacking of footsteps. Malfoy glanced down the hallway, his brow creasing, and then tightened his grip on Ginny's arm and pulled her further into the shadowy alcove. A beam of moonlight slanted sharply onto the left side of Malfoy's face and in its pale, ethereal glow, she could clearly see that his normally thin face was gaunt and his naturally pale skin had taken on a grey, sickly pallor. Staring at his ravaged face, Ginny forgot to breathe for a moment and canted her head to the side, a familiar feeling in her chest growing ( _but never with Malfoy!)_ that felt horribly like pity.

"If you really believe that, then why are you shaking?" Ginny said softly.

"Shut it, Weasley." Malfoy's voice was low and dangerous and he quickly released her arm and took a quick step back, keeping his left arm, the one holding his wand, trained on her.

"You're trembling so much you can barely hold your wand straight." Ginny continued, her brave words defying the quavering in her voice. "And you look sick."

"I said, SHUT IT, Weasley!" hissed Draco, his lips twisting into an ugly sneer, but his left arm was slowly lowering.

"I mean it, Malfoy. You look like you've barely slept in weeks." Ginny stated, her voice growing stronger. "When did you last eat something?"

"Stop. Just stop." Draco clenched his eyes shut, his teeth bared as if in pain and unsteady hissing breaths escaping his mouth. Ginny saw with some relief that his left arm, clenching his wand, was now rigid at his side.

"I can help you," Ginny's confident words belied the nervous feeling in the pit of her stomach. _Why am I saying this to him? Why am I feeling sorry for this arrogant tosser? This can only end badly; no one pities Draco Malfoy._

"Hah." Draco scoffed, turning his face away from her. "Why do you even care?"

"I don't." Ginny retorted. They both stiffened, as they heard the footsteps growing closer, and then released a collective sigh of relief as whomever it was continued by without noticing them skulking suspiciously in the shadows. Malfoy turned towards Ginny and she couldn't stop a gasp from issuing forth when she boldly met his gaze. His gray eyes, normally slitted in rage or contempt, were huge, and a swirling mass of emotion filled them. It wasn't the same insane, demented look Ginny had seen in the library. In his eyes, silvery grey with the moonlight, Ginny could recognize pain, sadness, and an overwhelming look of despair. She took a voluntary step closer to him, drawn to the human-ness of what she'd seen there, but then he blinked his eyes were hooded, guarded again.

"Just go away." Draco said wearily, closing his eyes, and Ginny stepped back hastily. She noticed that his eyelids were dark and hollowed, shaded underneath by blue, bruise-like shadows.

"No!" Ginny said forcefully, not sure why she was pushing this so much.

"Why won't you just leave me alone?" Malfoy begged, his eyes closed and his fists clenching tightly at his sides. He had given up attempting to intimidate and scare her into leaving, as she had not backed down, and now he just looked worn out, tired, and like the scared teenage boy that he was. Ginny tried to think of something she could say to shock him into listening to her and taking her advice to get help. She was in too deep with this now, had invested way too much of her time focused on him to back down now.

"Because whatever you try to tell me, whatever your actions say, you don't want to do this, this- thing- whatever it is!" Ginny pleaded, remembering his haunted eyes, "Can't you see that it's killing you?"

Draco laughed once, hollowly, and it echoed chillingly throughout the cavernous space. "Worse things could happen." Malfoy said in a calm, eerie voice.

Ginny sucked in a sharp breath, "Is that it? Are you being threatened?" She felt triumphant upon having reached this potential explanation for his erratic and out of character behavior, and latched on, saying earnestly, "We can help you, Malfoy, Dumbledore or McGonagall- we can-"

"Ha! That's so cute. You really want to help me! You want me to go running to the Order? Use your brain, if you even have one," Malfoy let out an inelegant and derisive snicker, and briefly the arrogant, rude, instigating Malfoy was back, "Do you really think they would take me in after-"

He cut himself off, shaking his head quickly, and Ginny saw his shoulders slump as he fell back into the shadows of the alcove almost as if he wanted to disappear. "No one can help me; it's too late."

Ginny remained silent, her eyes fixed on Draco's bowed head. His pale, fine hair, normally styled so perfectly, was tousled endearingly around his head; tufts sticking up here and there and Ginny couldn't stop staring at it. This defeated, vulnerable Malfoy was not someone she was used to and she had no idea how to handle him. The arrogant, rude, insulting Malfoy she could handle, usually by responding to his hostility in the same way, but this Malfoy, exposed and defeated as he was, was completely foreign to her. With nothing left to say, Ginny reached into her bag and began to fish around. Malfoy's head shot up suspiciously upon hearing her rummaging through her things.

"What are you doing?" his eyes were narrowed apprehensively.

Ginny remained silent, shifted a book to the side in her bag, and then her fist closed around something that had been buried at the bottom. She withdrew her hand, clutching a perfectly formed, bright, red apple loosely in her fingers, and held it out to him.

"Here," she said softly and cautiously, holding the apple out toward him as if he was an easily spooked horse that was likely to rear back and run away, "Please, eat this."

Malfoy slowly took the apple from her with his long, elegant fingers, and an unreadable expression in his stormy eyes. He looked down at the apple, and then his eyes met hers and he nodded, once, before swiftly turning and stalking down the hallway in the opposite direction. Ginny watched him until he disappeared around the corner and then dropped her shaking arm to her side, letting out her breath with a _whoosh_. Her fingers were still tingling from where they had briefly brushed against his. Ginny clenched her hand into a fist and turned away.


	4. Chapter 4

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

After returning to her dorm from the dungeons last night, Ginny had headed straight towards her room, ignoring a group of her friends who were gathered in the common room. She knew that she had probably looked as rattled and rumpled as she felt and didn't want to draw too much attention to herself. Ginny noticed Demelza had shot her a suspicious glare, but the other girl hadn't come after her. Since Ginny's brusque brush off of her friend's concern after Quidditch practice a few weeks ago, Demelza hadn't really been speaking to Ginny.

Now, Ginny sat in the Great Hall at lunch, poking glumly and without interest at her food. She was sitting with Ron, Hermione, and Harry, but she wasn't actively a part of their group; she may as well have been a glass of pumpkin juice, for all the attention they were paying her. Ginny was glad, though, she definitely wasn't in the mood to socialize, so she allowed her mind to wander. She found her gaze roving to the Slytherin table, even though she'd already checked at least a half dozen times since sitting down: Malfoy wasn't over there. In fact, she hadn't seen him yet at all today. Ginny refused to examine why the realization made her feel so disappointed.

"Ginny?"

Startled, Ginny jumped and refocused her eyes, finding Harry staring at her in amusement with his bright, green eyes. She felt her checks redden from his unexpected attention on her.

"Hmm?"

"It's just, you've been staring into space for about five minutes. And… you've torn your bread into bits." Harry's eyes flicked down to her plate.

Ginny glanced down; sure enough, her slice of bread was littered all over her plate in tiny shreds. She felt her face flush again and was aware that Ron and Hermione had stopped their conversation to look at her, too.

"Sorry. I just- I'm a bit distracted," Ginny faltered.

"You OK, Ginny?" her brother asked, looking over at her in concern.

"Yeah, sure," Ginny injected false brightness into her voice, waving a hand carelessly, "Just lots of assignments that I've got a bit behind on."

Unbidden, her gaze again lifted to the Slytherin table; still no Malfoy. She felt her features fall in disappointment and inwardly cursed herself. _Why the hell did she care where Malfoy was?_ Except Ginny knew that she _did_ care. Somewhere along the way, she had started _caring_ about him, especially when he looked at her like he had last night with those limpid, crystal eyes and spoken with such heartbreaking vulnerability in his voice and made her skin tingle when he touched her-

Ginny slammed her hands on the table abruptly, startling everyone around her, before standing up quickly. She needed to stop that train of thought; it was going to a place that she was _not_ comfortable with.

"I just remembered. I left something in my dorm that I need for class." Ginny lied for the benefit of the people around her, and head down, rushed out of the Great Hall.

* * *

"You know, Ron, if you actually did your assignments when they were assigned you wouldn't be rushing around at the last minute like this!" Hermione was saying bossily.

"Well maybe, if you wouldn't spend so much time bloody lecturing me about it, I might have more time to do them!" Ron snapped back.

Ginny couldn't quite restrain herself from rolling her eyes. Her brother had invited her to come with him, Hermione, and Harry to study at the library and Ginny, starved for company ( _and a good distraction_ ), had jumped at the chance. She suspected that they had noticed how off she had been acting and that it was more out of pity, than a genuine interest for her company, but she didn't care. With Ron and Hermione occupied by their constant snipping at each other, Ginny was able to talk to Harry a bit more than usual.

She looked over at him now and they shared a mutually exasperated look at the antics of the other two. Ginny smiled at him, and he smiled back, and she felt content and carefree for the first time in quite awhile. As they turned the corridor that led to the library, Ginny was reaching down to adjust the strap of her bag, not looking where she was going, when she felt her shoulder smack roughly into someone.

Wincing, she stepped back and looked up, prepared to apologize to whomever she had bumped into. When she found herself, cruelly and inevitably, meeting Malfoy's surprised gaze, the apology died immediately on her lips. Malfoy stared at her for a long moment and she noticed that his face was absent of the mask that usually kept his features closed off when in public. Briefly, Ginny wondered if it would be ok, if maybe their interaction last night had shifted some subtle thing between them and their dynamic would be forever altered.

Then his shuttered gaze dropped, his lip curled, and any sense of hope on Ginny's part that things had changed vanished immediately. Ginny was aware that Harry, Ron, and Hermione had stopped just past them in the hallway, Ron glaring furiously at Malfoy. Malfoy stepped closer to Ginny and sneered at her.

"Watch where you're _bloody_ well going, _Weasley,"_ he spat, mouth curling into the most impressively disdainful sneer Ginny had ever seen, clipped tones dripping brutally with venom.

Rationally, Ginny knew that she should simply ignore him and walk away with Ron, Harry, and Hermione. She knew this would be the sensible thing to do, but unfortunately, Ginny tended to act most insensibly whenever she was around Malfoy, so she did the complete opposite. She stepped closer to him, filled with an irrational sense of rage and ( _probably false_ ) fearlessness.

"It was a bleeding _acc_ ident and you _bloody_ well know that!" Ginny bellowed, drawing herself up to her full height. "So _stop_ being a git and bloody well sod OFF,"

Out of the corner of her eye, Ginny was aware that Ron's mouth had dropped open and he, Harry, and Hermione were staring at her in astonishment. She was also vaguely aware of other people stopping in the corridor, drawn in by the yelling and possibly by the fact that little Ginny Weasley was swearing up a storm at _Draco Malfoy._ All of the rest of her attention was focused on Malfoy, and she watched as his lips twisted at her words. This close to him again, Ginny could see that he still didn't look well; his grey eyes were traced by deep shadows.

"You better shut your damn mouth, you filthy blood traitor," Malfoy hissed, and several people in the quickly gathering crowd actually gasped, "You have NO right to treat me like that. Do you _know_ who I am?"

Ginny actually let out a mocking laugh at this and stared at him with a pitying look on her face,

"Really Malfoy? That's all you could come up with?"

Ginny could feel the foolish rage continuing to burn through her; _why did Malfoy have to act so contrary all the time_? He was completely infuriating and she found herself unable to hold anything back, searching for something to say that would hurt him like he was hurting her with his denial and avoidance.

"You're _pathetic,_ " Ginny finally spat and watched with a sick sort of glee as his face contorted and he lunged at her, losing his balance when he nearly tripped over his fallen bag. Ginny confidently stepped back out of his reach, but her growing smirk faded quickly when she saw his face as he regained his footing and approached her again. Her eyes flicked down, noticing that he was clutching his wand at his side, and she felt the beginnings of fear. Boldly, stupidly, she reached for her own wand and stared him down.

"Ginny, don't!" Hermione said, clapping her hands over her mouth and edging closer to Ginny, "Someone's already gone for a professor!"

"Yeah, Gin," Harry added, sounding wary, "He's not worth it."

Ginny looked at them, and noticed that both Harry and Hermione had a hand on a mutinous looking Ron, probably to restrain him from attempting to go after Malfoy. She looked blankly at them, only half aware of their presence, and stoically turned her attention back to Malfoy.

He continued to walk smoothly towards her, his silvery eyes fixed on her intently. Ginny supposed she should have felt afraid in that moment, but she really only felt angry. When he got close enough that she could have reached out and touched his face had she wanted to, he leaned down and whispered harshly in her ear,

"Don't you _ever_ insult me like that in public again, or I _will_ make you sorry."

Then he stepped back and spoke in a normal tone,

"Do you understand me?"

Ginny felt her blood boil; was he actually _threatening_ her? Ginny couldn't believe she'd ever let herself feel anything for him other than complete and utter revulsion. What had she been _thinking?_ She faced Malfoy down and stared at him unflinchingly. She was aware of the quick tapping of heels, as someone hurried towards them from the other end of the corridor, but she kept her wand in her shaking hand anyway.

"Don't _you_ ever threaten me like that again, you shifty Death Eater _ferret_!" Ginny snarled, and her eyes were filled with disgust and nothing else as she glared at Malfoy.

Malfoy's guarded eyes flashed with sudden anger and he lunged at Ginny again, wand in hand, but before he could do anything, he was repelled back towards the wall, where he remained, frozen. Professor Snape stood there, his wand raised, and Professor McGonagall approached quickly from the other direction.

"What is the meaning of this?" McGonagall asked sharply, her sharp eyes roving to Ginny and she shrank back, "Ms. Weasley?"

From his frozen position on the opposite side of the corridor, Malfoy shouted, "She had her wand trained on me; I only pulled mine out in self defense!"

Abruptly, Harry broke in, "Oh shut it, Malfoy, that is such a lie."

Ginny looked at Harry with gratitude, as he continued, "Malfoy had his wand out first; he lunged at Ginny twice, like he was going to attack."

"Drawing wands, in the middle of the corridor? Ms. Weasley, I am disappointed in you," McGonagall said severely.

From across the hall, Malfoy shot Ginny a contemptuous sneer.

"Everyone but Mr. Malfoy and Ms. Weasley, you are dismissed," Snape demanded.

When none of the gathered students made any attempt to move, Snape raised his voice,

"Go! Now."

There was a rush of activity and the students dashed off, Harry, Ron, and Hermione looking back at Ginny with concern as they left. She was still standing frozen in place on her side of the corridor. She was aware that McGonagall was staring at her, but she refused to meet her Head of House's gaze.

"My office, Mr. Malfoy," Snape said shortly, and took a hold of Malfoy's collar to haul him away.

Having released the brunt of her frustrations on viciously fighting with Malfoy, Ginny felt strangely calm. Snape and Malfoy-protesting weakly- disappeared, leaving Ginny alone with McGonagall in the now silent corridor.

Before McGonagall could say anything else, or begin to chastise her, Ginny spoke vehemently,

"I'm _not_ sorry I did that, Professor. He is insufferable and he deserved anything I said to him."

"I do not deny that Mr. Malfoy deserved what you said to him," McGonagall said bitterly, and Ginny looked up at her quickly in surprise, "However, doing so in the middle of a public corridor…with _drawn wands…_ is not acceptable."

"I understand, Professor," Ginny held her head up.

McGonagall nodded, satisfied, "You will serve detention with me tomorrow night in my office. 7 pm sharp."

"-But Professor, I have Quidditch-" Ginny argued.

"7 pm sharp tomorrow night, Ms. Weasley. And 15 points from Gryffindor for inappropriate conduct," McGonagall repeated and her tone booked no arguments.

"Will _Malfoy_ be getting detention and losing house points, as well?" Ginny asked snidely.

"I have no doubt that Professor Snape will deal with his student in a suitable manner," McGonagall said shortly.

"Good," Ginny said, with obvious relish.

McGonagall canted her head to the side as she examined Ginny seriously.

"Ms. Weasley…I thought I expressed in our last conversation that you were to stay away from Mr. Malfoy. How exactly did this happen?"

Ginny ignored McGonagall's question, voice shaking with rage, "Don't worry, Professor, I have _no_ intention of _ever_ going near him again."

"Very well, Ms. Weasley," McGonagall sighed, "You may go. I will see you tomorrow night."

Gladly, Ginny gathered up her bag and hurried away from her Head of House. She figured that Ron, Harry, and Hermione were probably wondering how she was, so she headed back to the common room. As she trudged up the stairs towards Gryffindor Tower, Ginny found herself wondering what Snape and Malfoy were talking about, before reminding herself that she was _not_ going to waste any more thoughts on Malfoy again.

When she pushed wearily through the portrait hole, Ron was immediately in her face,

"Ginny, are you OK? What the hell happened down there?"

"Are you in awfully deep trouble?" Hermione asked from just behind him, concern marring her features.

"I'm fine. Detention with McGonagall tomorrow," Ginny said shortly, knowing that that wouldn't be enough to satisfy their curiosity.

"But what happened, Ginny? I can't believe you spoke to _Malfoy_ like that!" Hermione was still staring at her with round eyes.

"Yeah, Gin, I've never heard you talk like that to _anyone_ , let alone Draco bleeding Malfoy," Ron added, "Where did you get the _nerve_?"

"He's a git, and he deserved it," Ginny mumbled, her eyes flicking up to Harry as he broke into laughter at that comment.

"Too right about that," Harry said, still chuckling, "Whatever the reason, I'm glad you said that stuff to him. Someone needed to-"

"Yes, but," Hermione was frowning now, "I've never even heard you say one word to Malfoy, and now here you are yelling at him, and calling him _pathetic,_ and a _Death Eater…_ I mean, it doesn't make any sense-"

Ginny felt herself flush at Hermione's words and, worried about the other girl's train of thought, broke in abruptly,

"I guess I've been keeping too much in." Ginny said, and it really wasn't even a lie.

Ron laughed, "Apparently so! Anyway, good on you, Gin," and thumped her on the back.

Ginny smiled wanly at them all and excused herself, saying that she was tired and needed to go to bed.

* * *

As of today, it had officially been four weeks since "the hallway incident" when she and Malfoy had almost dueled. During that time, Ginny had not spoken one word to him and had gone out of her way to try to never to be within 100 yards of him. She had seen him, of course, and she couldn't help but notice that he looked even more ill and exhausted than ever. Whenever they accidentally crossed paths in the hallways, Malfoy always blatantly looked the other way.

Her friends, Demelza especially, had been glad to see that Ginny was becoming more like her old self. After hearing about "the hallway incident" from another 5th year, Demelza had approached Ginny and apologized for pushing her too much to tell her what was going on. Then, Dem had grinned and told Ginny "good job" on taking Malfoy down a peg. Ginny was glad to have her old friends back and she had been enjoying spending time with them studying at the library, at Quidditch practice, and on weekend trips to Hogsmeade. It was starting to seem like the months of "the Malfoy fascination" had been nothing but a weird dream.

Ginny was currently headed down to the Quidditch pitch with Demelza and Jimmy Peakes. The weather was starting to warm up and it was the first day this year that actually felt like spring. Ginny smiled, looking up at the bright blue sky and fluffy clouds and let out a sigh of contentment. Quidditch practice was one of her favorite parts of the day; she got to spend time with her friends outside flying _and_ she got a chance to see Harry. Because of the increased practices as the Quidditch final approached, Ginny and Harry had been spending more time together, a fact that made Ginny _very_ happy.

Tomorrow, Ginny was going to Hogsmeade with Ron, Hermione, and Harry. Harry had asked her to go as a friend, at the last minute, but Ginny couldn't help but read into it and wonder if he really might be interested in her. He was certainly paying more attention to her lately than he ever used to, but that might be just a result of their increased time together because of Quidditch. Either way, Ginny wasn't going to complain; even if he did only like her as a friend, it was better than being completely overlooked.

"Hey, guys," Harry called now, as the three fifth years entered the pitch, "I thought we'd start off practice with some nice slow laps around the pitch. Take your time, focus on _form_ , not trying to win; it's not a race!"

* * *

 _Late Spring, 1997_

Ginny rushed down the hall toward Harry, who was appearing from Dumbledore's office, looking visibly shaken.

"What happened, Harry?" Ginny asked, skidding to a stop next to him.

All she had been able to gather so far, from the rumors thrown out by fellow classmates, was that Harry had gotten into a fight, someone was in the hospital wing, and Harry had been sent immediately to Dumbledore's office.

"Well, I certainly have detention," Harry looked at her grimly.

"That's not so bad, right? For how many nights?" Ginny encouraged gently.

"It is actually pretty bad. I haven't told you when it is yet," Harry said shortly.

Ginny remained silent, waiting for Harry to continue.

"I have it next Friday from 7-9, Saturday from 1 to 5, and Sunday from 1 to 5, too," Harry said morosely.

"But- but Harry, the final match is Saturday…" Ginny breathed.

"I know," Harry said harshly, "Trust me, I know."

Harry's eyes were wild as he looked at her seriously, "Ginny, you have to be Seeker for me. Please-"

Ginny felt her stomach drop, "Harry, I don't know, I haven't been practicing as Seeker…"

"Oh, come on," he encouraged, "You're the best chance we've got and you know it."

Ginny blushed with pride at his compliment and shifted her weight on her feet nervously.

"I mean, I suppose I'll have to," she agreed, before frowning at him, "But Harry, what happened earlier, are you alright?"

"I'M okay. I did something a little bit silly, though. I followed Malfoy after dinner- I wanted to confront him about what he's been up to. I know I should have just gone to a professor or something, but I don't know- I just wanted to confront him myself. So I did. And we started to fight and he was going to cast _something bad_ on me, I don't know exactly what, and so I used this spell I've never used before – a bad one- and he got really hurt. I mean, there was blood everywhere and he was as white as a ghost. I didn't mean to do it- I didn't know that would happen-"

Ginny had gone completely still and concentrated all her effort on not reacting in the way she wanted, which was to clap her hands over her mouth and ask frantically if Malfoy was alright. She forced herself to remain calm and to keep her facial expression neutral, even though her insides were twisting into knots.

"Wow," Ginny finally said, with strained composure.

"I know. I-I didn't know what the spell did. I didn't really _want_ to hurt him like that," Harry ran a hand through his hair anxiously, eyes wild.

"Is he going to be alright, do you think?" Ginny asked carefully, attempting not to inflect any sort of concern into her neutral tone.

Harry gave her a funny look, but then nodded slowly, "As far as I know. He hasn't died yet, at least." Harry gave a false chuckle.

Ginny felt her face give a strange, flinching grimace and she forced herself to laugh feebly along with Harry.

Harry's expression turned serious as he looked back at Ginny, "Thanks Gin, I'm sure the match will go great."

Ginny smiled weakly and leaned against the wall, watching Harry walk away.

* * *

Ginny work up early on the Sunday after the final match, which was surprising since she'd been up later than usual last night. She luxuriated in bed for a moment, a goofy grin spreading over her face as she remembered everything that had happened yesterday. She had played Seeker for Gryffindor, they had _won,_ and it had been amazing. After the match, the team, as well as most of Gryffindor House, had gathered in the common room and threw a wild party. A few 7th years had snuck out to Hogsmeade to obtain Butterbeer and sweets and someone else had charmed music to play.

The other thing that had happened, which in Ginny's opinion was even better than the win, was that she and Harry had _kissed_. She felt another smile spread over her face as she remembered. He'd returned from detention, heard what happened at the game, and immediately had come over to give Ginny a hug. And then, before she could even acknowledge what was happening, they had kissed, and it had been sweet and nice and wonderful. Ron had looked over with a disgusted look on his face, and Hermione had smiled widely.

Ginny was feeling nervous about seeing Harry again today; she wasn't sure where they had left things last night, as Ginny had gone upstairs soon after leaving Harry and they hadn't really talked about anything. To prolong the inevitably awkward interaction, Ginny decided to waste some time by writing a letter to her parents to tell them about the match last night and to tell them about she and Harry. She scrawled out a quick note, threw on some clothes, and rushed off to the Owlery.

Ginny passed Demelza and Elizabeth in the common room, both of whom gave their friend very significant, smirking looks.

"Hi, Ginny," Dem drawled knowingly, "Good night last night?"

Ginny rolled her eyes, but shot her friends an indulgent smile.

"Where are you rushing off to?" Elizabeth asked sweetly, with a saccharine smile, "Are you meeting _Harry_?"

"Oh Elizabeth, not you too! Don't let Dem's incorrigible nosiness corrupt you!" Ginny cried, shooting her friend a joking glare. "I'm going to mail a letter before breakfast. I'll meet you in the Great Hall."

"Sure, Gin," Demelza called, "Say hi to Harry for us!"

Ginny flashed her friends a nasty look, and then hurried towards the portrait hole.

* * *

Still smiling goofily to herself, Ginny pushed open the creaky door to the Owlery, wincing as its protesting hinges made a groaning, grating sound. Carefully, Ginny settled the door back into its latch slowly. She shivered, wishing she had thrown on a sweater underneath her robe; it was a chilly morning and the air was damp with impending rain. Ginny moved over to the row where the school owls were kept, selecting one at random. As she drew her letter out of her pocket and prepared to affix it to the owl's leg, she heard a strange snuffling sound coming from another part of the Owlery. Ginny stiffened, and cocked her head, listening for a moment. Rationally, Ginny figured that it was most likely an owl, but the noise had sounded vaguely like a human voice.

"Hello? Is someone there?" Ginny called, fingering her wand in her pocket. She heard another vague sound echo off the high ceiling and frowned, "I can hear you, you know."

Cautiously, she tiptoed around the row of owl perches and slowly inched towards the dark recesses at the back of the owlery. It was undeniably creepy back here, with the hooting owls shifting around on their perches and staring at her with their glinting, unblinking eyes. Ginny frowned and drew her wand out of her pocket, casting _Lumos_ quickly. The beam of light spread in front of her, alighting a circle of warm light on the wall in front of her and casting creepy shadows. Against the wall, on the floor, a huddled shape was hunched and Ginny's eyes were drawn to the unmistakable fair hair that gleamed in the light from her wand. She let out a groaning sigh and felt her eyes narrow.

" _Malfoy,_ " she spat, "What the hell are you doing lurking up here? You could have said something when I called, you know."

Malfoy raised his head and Ginny felt herself shrink back at the intensity of his expression. His eyes, silvery in her wand light, were tormented and Ginny was startled to see that they were glistening with tears, the traces of which were streaked down his pale face.

"I didn't say anything, because I bloody well didn't want anyone to find me here like this," Malfoy said in dull tones, lacking his usual acerbity, "But, of course, _you'd_ have to be the one to come up here..."

Startled and annoyed, Ginny gaped at him, "It's not like I planned-"

"Well, go ahead, Weasley," Malfoy tilted his head back against the wall, regarding her with slitted eyes, "Have a laugh at me. I know how much you enjoy that."

"I don't-," Ginny spluttered, feeling her irritation raise, along with a fainter something that felt vaguely like concern.

"I bet you're just so pleased to find me up here- did you follow me up here? How did you-" Draco began, still in that same monotonous, leaden tone.

"I came up here to mail a letter!" Ginny interrupted, stamping her foot, "Trust me, I am NOT pleased to find you- I would have been perfectly happy to never have to see you again."

"Go away then," Malfoy said softly, closing his eyes.

Watching his face closely, illuminated in the beam of light, Ginny was horrified to see a few more tears slip past his lashes. She had never seen him so unguarded, or so lacking in the prickly, defensive exterior he usually presented. Sure, his words were sharp like usual, but his tone of voice, his posture, and the tortured expression on his face screamed defeat. Ginny might have convinced herself that it was pure curiosity that made her edge cautiously towards Malfoy, but deep down she knew that it was more than that.

"No," Ginny said stubbornly, crossing her arms over her chest.

Malfoy didn't say anything in response and remained there, leaning his head against the wall as he took in a shuddering breath.

"You made it perfectly clear that you want nothing more to do with me. So leave."

"Only because YOU made it clear that you didn't want or need my help!" Ginny yelled, flabbergasted.

Malfoy opened his eyes and regarded her blankly. "If you know that, then why are you still here?"

Ginny felt her jaw work uselessly for a moment, floundering for what to say. _Honestly, why did he push everyone away like this?_ "Because! Because I can't just leave, not when you're like this."

Malfoy's eyes darkened, "Don't, Weasley. Don't start looking at me like that again- like I'm some sort of charity case and it's your Gryffindor duty to rescue me and make me good. It won't work."

"I don't care about that," Ginny sniffed, even though that had been exactly what she'd been thinking. Instead, she drew even closer and then slowly slid down the wall against which he was leaning, until she was seated next to him. She had settled somewhat ungracefully, and as she felt his shoulder brush against hers, Ginny realized too late that she misjudged and ended up sitting much closer to him than she had intended. Strangely, he made no move to draw away from her, simply drawing his left knee up with his arm. The only sounds for a few minutes were the soft hooting of the owls and the distant ruffling of feathers and wings.

Ginny wrinkled her nose and turned to Malfoy, a slight impish grin on her lips, "You couldn't have picked a less smelly place to have a nervous breakdown?"

Astonishingly, his nose crinkled and he let out a quiet, but genuine, snort of laughter, before allowing his face to settle into a gentle smile. Ginny stared at him in wonderment, noticing how the unfamiliar expression completely softened his usually sharp features. When he laughed, his eyes crinkled charmingly at the corners. It was _not_ a bad thing, and Ginny wanted to tell him so.

Instead, she cleared her throat and said, "I heard about- about what Harry did. He didn't mean to- he didn't know-"

"Oh please, spare me," Malfoy spat, interrupting her stumbled attempt at an apology, the soft smile melting from his face.

Ginny swallowed her disappointment, but pushed on, "Are you okay?"

Malfoy slanted an unreadable look at her, and then slowly started to unbutton his shirt, still staring at her. Ginny's eyes widened, but she didn't back away. He drew aside part of his shirt, baring the jagged, red scar on his chest. Nervously, Ginny leaned forward to peer at it, not daring to get too close.

"It looks bad. Did it hurt?" Ginny asked carefully.

"It doesn't matter. I deserved it. If you had known what I was about to cast on your _precious_ Potter, you would be glad he did it-" Malfoy said hollowly.

Ginny creased her brow, but decided not to pursue that line of questioning. Mostly because she didn't really want to know, but partly because whatever was happening right now between them was going all right, and she didn't want to spoil it. Instead, she tipped her head back against the wall, taking a moment to enjoy the surprisingly companionable silence.

"What did he get for casting that on me?" Malfoy asked suddenly.

"Lots of detention. And lots of points lost. He missed the Quidditch final," Ginny said, and then added quietly, "I had to play Seeker."

"Yeah? I didn't know you played Seeker," Malfoy said in a surprisingly affable voice.

"Well, I don't normally. I don't like it much, actually, but he asked me to and I had some experience. We won, anyway," Ginny said.

Malfoy just nodded, letting his head thump gently against the wall; as if it wasn't surprising in the slightest that they had won, even with a substitute Seeker. Another silence stretched out between them, but it felt comfortable, like the last had. Lost in thought, Ginny turned her head to examine him and found that his eyes were squeezed shut again and his jaw was clenching in a way that looked painful.

"Malfoy," Ginny said sharply, "What's going on with you? What's happened?"

Malfoy just shot her a side-eyed glare, and a nasty expression had overtaken his features again. Ginny felt her heart drop; _Why did I have to say that and ruin this?_ It was impossible to keep up with his mercurial moods.

"What's up with you and _Potter_ , Weasley?" he sneered, "Unrequited love still?"

Ginny frowned and faltered for a minute, thrown completely off balance by this abrupt change in topic. _What in the hell?_ She glared back at him, and crossed her arms in front of her again.

"Not that it's _any_ of your business," Ginny spat, "But we're actually dating now."

Briefly, Malfoy's fair eyebrows shot up on his forehead, before he let a smug expression cross his face again.

"Really? How'd you manage snaring that one, then? Just like you've always wanted. Does he make you as happy as you've always dreamed?" he said nastily.

" _Stop._ " Ginny spat.

Surprisingly, Malfoy did stop, looking down and shifting around on the hard ground. Ginny felt his arm brush against hers again and shuddered. They lapsed back into silence once more, but this one was strained and tense. Ginny had moved, intending to get up and leave, when he turned dark, serious eyes on her.

"Would you do anything to save your family?" Malfoy asked suddenly.

Ginny's eyes grew round as she looked back at him, warily. _Where on earth was this coming from?_

"I would," Malfoy continued, a wild note of desperation coloring his tone, "I would do _anything_ to save them –even-"

Ginny waited, as she had a feeling that anything she said would break the spell. Malfoy clenched his fists and drew in a shuddering breath, bringing his left hand up to grasp at his hair.

"If I don't do this, they'll _die_. And I can't –I won't- I won't be responsible for that," Draco whispered.

Ginny was aware that she was gaping at him, but she made no move to close her mouth for a long moment. She hurriedly shifted up onto her knees and turned to face him, bring up her hand uneasily to touch his right arm.

"Malfoy, please, let me-," Ginny said seriously, swallowing nervously, "Draco. Please, you have to let me help you. It's not as desperate as it seems. It's _not._ "

"It is though," Malfoy said woodenly, and she watched as he let his arm fall back down into his lap. His sleeve had gotten pushed up from the movement and Ginny was left staring down at the grotesque, black shape on the inside of his left forearm with a sense of morbid horrification, but also with a dawning sense of confirmation.

Malfoy's head shot up when Ginny had remained silent for too long and, flushing, he snatched at his sleeve, attempting to ineffectually cover the Mark.

"Draco," she whispered," _Why_?"

"Get out," Malfoy spat, and his entire body had turned rigid, "Get out of my sight."

Ginny looked up at him, eyes wide with worry, but remained where she was, crouched next to him.

"I mean it, Weasley- Get _out!"_ Draco snarled, breathing heavily now, eyes still downcast.

Ginny stood up stiffly, and backed away from him, still watching him carefully as she started to flee.

"Don't you understand now?" Malfoy said in an eerie voice, "Now you get why I said that nothing you could do would _ever_ help me. It's too late. _I've already done the worst thing I could ever do._ "


	5. Chapter 5

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

 **Shell Cottage, Cornwall, U.K.**

 _Fall, 1998_

Fleur had gone into town to run some errands and Bill was currently at work, which meant that Ginny was left alone with Malfoy in the house. Ginny was in her room with the door shut, pressing her hands tight against her ears in an effort to forget about the fact that there was another occupant in the cottage. Unfortunately, the thin walls and general lack of surface area made this nearly impossible, as Ginny suddenly heard a door slam noisily from across the hall and the stairs creak with the weight of footsteps.

Ginny shot up straight on her bed, her heart thumping, and her senses alert. Since arriving here, Malfoy had chosen to spend most of this time in his room, only coming out when forced to by Fleur or Bill. _What on earth was he doing?_ She snatched her wand from her bedside table and slipped out into the hallway, hurrying quickly down the narrow stairs. As she rounded the bottom of the staircase and turned to approach the kitchen, she heard a groan of irritation and something slammed against the counter with a clank.

"Can't I even get one minute of bloody peace around here, without you tailing after me?" Malfoy shouted, turning to look at her contemptuously.

Undeterred, Ginny met his hostile gaze and snapped,

"No, Malfoy, you can't. It's my _job_ to keep an eye on what you're up to and honestly, I don't trust you one bit."

Malfoy snorted, mouth twisting unpleasantly, "You certainly seemed to trust me well enough two years ago when you were following me around like a little puppy dog."

Ginny felt her face begin to flush, but she concentrated on keeping her simmering anger at bay. Ever since their unfortunate meeting last month in the kitchen, she had told herself that she wouldn't allow him to rile her up and she was determined to remain calm and collected in the face of his attempts to goad her. It had worked so far, but mostly because he was voluntarily keeping his distance and she had barely seen him.

Ginny sighed, and put her wand back in her pocket. "What are you doing down here? I thought you were determined to spend as little time out of your room as possible."

"No, I'm simply determined to spend as little time as possible around _you_ people…I was taking advantage of the fact that your brother and his wife are gone and was _hoping_ that you would stay in your damn room so I could get something to eat. _Alone_." Malfoy said pointedly.

"By all means, go right ahead," Ginny said, making a false gesture of graciousness with one arm and leaning a shoulder against the doorframe, "You won't even know I'm here."

Malfoy narrowed his eyes at her for a moment, curling his lip, and then turned back to the cabinet in which he was rummaging. He drew out a bowl, into which he proceeded to pour some crisps. Still facing away from her, he said stiffly, "What were you so worried about, when you came rushing down here after me? Did you think I was going to do a runner?"

"No, I-," Ginny protested, even thought that was exactly what she had been thinking, "I was just curious."

"Save it, Weasley," Malfoy said, rolling his eyes, as he turned to face her, "You know perfectly well that I am incapable of leaving, even if I wanted to. I have no wand, nowhere to go, and in case you forgot, I _don't even exist._ So you can just bloody well piss right off and leave me alone."

Ginny remained calmly leaning against the doorframe as Malfoy snarled at her. When he was done, she raised her eyebrows slightly and leveled a neutral look at him, wishing, not for the first time, that she could imitate his disdainfully arrogant single eyebrow raise.

"Is all of that blustering about supposed to intimidate me, Malfoy? You think I'm just going to scamper away, just because _big, bad, scary Draco Malfoy_ told me to?" Ginny mocked, the corner of her mouth curling slightly, "You know very well that stuff has never worked with me."

Ginny continued to regard Malfoy coolly, shifting against the doorframe and crossing her arms over her chest.

"So what will it take, then?" he asked carefully, folding his arms in front of him and cocking an eyebrow at her.

Ginny's eyebrows lowered at that, and she pursed her lips, a calculating gleam lighting her eyes. She carefully unpeeled herself from the edge of the doorway, sauntered casually into the room, and settled gracefully into a chair. Malfoy's cool, grey eyes narrowed as he watched her warily.

"A conversation," Ginny said simply, in response to his questioning look, "One conversation, and I'll leave you down here to eat your _pathetic_ crisps all by yourself."

"A conversation," Malfoy scoffed, shooting her a look that managed to be both derisive and doubtful at the same time, "Are we to talk about the weather, then?"

"If you'd feel more comfortable talking about the _weather_ to break the ice, then by all means, go ahead, but I have no intention of doing so," Ginny said scornfully, "No, I have some questions and I'm thinking you might have some answers. "

Malfoy shifted uneasily against the counter, but he kept his eyes trained on her, steely and glittering like ice from behind slitted lids. Ginny crossed her legs resolutely, kicking out the chair across the table from her with the toe of one shoe. Malfoy's eyes flicked down to it briefly, but he remained leaning against the counter, his only movement a purposeful shifting of his weight to his other leg. Ginny had figured that he would ignore her unspoken request to sit, in order to regain some semblance of control. She'd really only done so in an attempt to stall as she tried to gather her jumbled thoughts.

"So- what happened?" Ginny blurted abruptly, before she had a chance to unscramble her thoughts.

Malfoy's brow creased and his jaw clenched, as he stared determinedly away from Ginny. "You know what happened. You're here. McGonagall told you all about it."

"No, I know that," Ginny shook her head, "I mean- what happened- at- at the end of your sixth year?"

And there it was- the question that had been on Ginny's mind for a year and a half now, ever since leaving Malfoy that day when she'd discovered him crying in the Owlery. That had been one of the last times she'd seen him that year, other than a few times in the hallways in the weeks following. At the end of the year, something had happened on the Astronomy Tower; and as a result of that, Dumbledore was dead, Snape had fled, and Harry had somehow been involved. Malfoy was also conspicuously absent after that night, but no one else had seemed too concerned by that.

It was only later, when Ginny found out more from McGonagall, that she had learned the truth. The impossible task from Voldemort, given to Malfoy with the threat of his parent's lives held over his head, was to kill Dumbledore. It was this task that had been tearing Malfoy apart his 6th year and when he proved unable to do so, Snape, double agent and Order Spy Extraordinaire, had fulfilled it. Apparently Snape and McGonagall had been keeping an eye on Malfoy that whole year, having known about his task, in order to ensure that he wouldn't have to go through with it.

Ginny looked up at Malfoy now; his face was still turned away as he refused to meet her gaze.

"Malfoy?" Ginny prompted, her tone carefully gentle.

"Why are you asking this?" Malfoy bit out harshly, shooting silvered eyes towards her, his voice thin and tight, "You _know_ what happened."

"I know what _other_ people told me about it. I want to hear what _you_ can tell me about it. I want- I _need_ \- to understand," Ginny clarified.

Malfoy groaned and raked a hand through his fair hair, ruffling it into surprising and uncharacteristic disarray. Ginny noticed that his hand trembled slightly, making his typically smooth movements strangely unsteady. He sighed; his forehead creased with a vertical slash between downcast eyes and he dented his full lower lip with his teeth. He looked incredibly vulnerable and young in that moment and, despite herself, Ginny felt her heart expand in her chest.

"I don't know what you expect me to say," Malfoy spat, the acidity in his tone belying the wounded expression on his face, "I was weak, I couldn't do it, and now I'm stuck exiled in the middle of _sodding_ nowhere because of it."

"You couldn't do it because you were too weak, or you couldn't do it because you knew it was wrong?" Ginny asked, needing clarification.

"Does it matter?" Malfoy said to the floor.

"Of _course_ it matters!" Ginny shouted as she leapt to her feet, her tone jarring in the hushed atmosphere of the small space, and Malfoy looked up at her, startled.

"I wish I _had_ done it- at least then I wouldn't have to be stuck here," Malfoy said, a malicious sneer twisting his lips.

Ginny flinched, staring at him incredulously, "I know you don't really mean that."

"Don't I?" Malfoy smirked, a cruel bending of his expressive lips. Ginny noticed that the deceptive humor in his mouth didn't reach his eyes; they were blankly grey and empty.

"You _can't_ mean that," Ginny shook her head in disbelief. _He was so bloody stubborn._ "Malfoy, if you had done it, you would be rotting away in Azkaban now!"

Malfoy said nothing, but looked away from her again.

"I _know_ you didn't want to do any of it- you were the worst Death Eater I'd ever heard of!" Ginny laughed, "You were forced into it, when you were too young, and it nearly tore you apart to do any of that stuff-"

"You don't know anything," Malfoy interrupted, his voice low and dangerous.

Unfazed, Ginny persisted, "Here's what else I know: McGonagall told me about what you did during your 7th year, while you were in that other safe house."

Ginny was gratified to see Malfoy's eyebrows rise in surprise and his eyes shot quickly to meet hers.

He shifted uncomfortably and bowed his shoulders, "I didn't have a choice."

"You _did_ have a choice, Draco, you _always_ have a choice!" Ginny exclaimed, "And that time, you chose to do a good thing. Because you wanted to! Because you knew it was the right thing."

"I'm not good, _Ginevra_ ," Malfoy spat, lips twisting, as if she had accused him of a horrible thing.

"I'm not saying that," Ginny said patiently, "It's not so black and white, anyway. I'm just saying that maybe it's time to stop beating yourself up over the bad stuff you were _forced_ into doing."

At some point in their heated discussion, Ginny must have advanced closer to Malfoy, as she was surprised to find herself within a couple feet of him. Still breathing harshly, she stepped back quickly to gain some distance, leaning against the table and brushing her hair away from her face.

"Are we done?" Malfoy asked sharply, "Did I fulfill your request?"

Ginny lifted her eyes to look at him again. He was still holding himself in that hunched, defensive posture, propped up against the kitchen counter, and his pose reminded Ginny of the way he had held himself that day in the Owlery. Ginny hated seeing him like this; she wished he would draw himself back up into his normal, swaggering, superior stance.

"Not yet," Ginny said finally, before meeting his eyes with her perplexed gaze, thoughts still on that day in the Owlery, "Why didn't you let me help you? Why didn't you let _anyone_ help you? If you had listened to me- Snape or McGonagall or Dumbledore- they could have helped you get away earlier- you didn't have to let it get that bad!"

Malfoy remained silent; the only sounds were his ragged breathing and the ticking of the kitchen clock. His stance was still rigid, his shoulders slightly curved, as he took a long stride towards her, first clenching. Ginny straightened to her full height as he approached, but he really was intimidatingly tall- even curled defensively as he was- and he still loomed over her.

"I couldn't have run away. If I had run away, he would have-" Malfoy started hesitantly, then pushed on vehemently, "You don't understand how it was with him- you couldn't do anything to resist- no matter what you did, no matter what choice you made, he always won-"

"I know that." Ginny said softly, tilting her chin up in order to see his face. He was still standing so close. She was struck suddenly with the irrational desire to reach up and touch his face, wanting to trace her fingers over his sharp cheekbones in order to wipe away that ravaged expression. Ginny shook herself and forced herself to meet his gaze, her eyes soft and tender.

"My mother-" Malfoy broke off, shaking his head, "With my father- it was useless- he was in Azkaban, and that kept him safe- but my mother- she was trapped. She was a _prisoner_ , Ginevra. And if I had run off, he would have _killed_ her."

"Oh," Ginny breathed, feeling completely silly. It was almost as if she hadn't realized that Malfoy could have such strong feelings of attachment for his mother, that he could l _ove_ her- but of course he did. What kind of person didn't love his own mother? Ginny remembered Narcissa Malfoy- she had always seemed so cold, contemptuous, and cruel- but didn't Malfoy also appear that way to others? And _she_ knew there was more to him than that. Ginny felt a rush of warm concern spread through her and she turned wet eyes on Malfoy; he twisted away sharply from her gaze and stepped back.

"Don't _look_ at me like that," he spat, retreating to the other side of the room again. Ginny remained frozen next to the table, tracing the rough, wooden grains with her right hand, trying to ground herself. When Malfoy spoke again, his voice was soft and laced through with heavy, complete exhaustion.

"Are we finished now? Can you leave me alone now?"

Ginny nodded quickly, her throat tight and not daring to say anything, and backed out of the room quickly. She looked back as she started to mount the steps to see Malfoy sitting on the chair she had previously pushed out for him, his bowed head in his hands.

* * *

 **The Burrow, Ottery St. Catchpole, Devon, U.K.**

 _Summer, 1998_

"Ginny?" A faint knock sounded on her bedroom door and then it creaked open a crack, revealing her mum's concerned face. Ginny listlessly glanced up from where she lay curled on her side upon her unmade bed.

"How are you, dear?"

Since the final battle last month, Ginny had pretty much been holed up in her bedroom, ignoring everyone. She knew that her family was worried about her, but she just couldn't bring herself to care about anything. The past year had been so incredibly exhausting and terrifying and Ginny was just so _tired_. She was sick of the feeling of being constantly on alert and essentially fighting for her survival every second of the day and she thought she probably could have happily gone to sleep for weeks on end. Her family, her mum especially, had been insistent on getting her to join them downstairs, but Ginny barely had the energy to stay awake, let alone eat or talk or be around people. Everywhere she looked in the house, she saw or heard something that reminded her of Fred, and it just bloody _hurt_ so much.

" _What_ , Mum?" Ginny grumbled, her groggy voice tainted with sharpness.

With a pang of guilt, Ginny noticed that her mum flinched at her tone, but Molly pasted a bright smile on her face in the next moment. Ginny sat up on her bed and pressed down her unkempt hair, trying to smooth her sleep-crumpled, annoyed face into a more gentle expression.

"Are you feeling up for a chat with someone? On the floo?" her mum asked hesitantly.

Ginny's brows creased, and she rubbed a hand across her tired eyes, clearing her throat.

"Who?"

"It's Professor McGonagall, dear. I expect it has something to do with finishing your 6th year since, well-" Molly broke off, shaking her head, "Anyway, she spoke with Ron, Harry, and Hermione as well, earlier, about finishing their last year, so I assume-"

Ginny had stopped listening; she hopped off the bed and was quickly pulling on a pair of jeans and a baggy jumper. She felt a surge of energy running through her; _finally, something to take her mind off laying here with nothing worthwhile to focus on, other than feelings of loss._ Despite not being the _best_ student, Ginny had found herself missing the structure and consistency that school provided and was disappointed that she hadn't gotten to properly finish her 6th year. She was also more than a little bit curious to hear if Professor McGonagall had news about what would happen with Hogwarts next year.

"Tell her I'll be right down, alright?" Ginny said, her voice brighter than it had been in weeks.

Her mum smiled at Ginny's apparent burst of liveliness and left, leaving the door open behind her. Ginny went over to her vanity mirror and raked her fingers through her bedraggled hair in at attempt to get rid of some of the tangles. She winced as her fingers got caught in the snarls and instead, scraped it back into a messy bun. Her face was pale, her freckles standing out sharply on her cheekbones like pinpricks; she attempted to pinch some color into her wan cheeks. She hadn't left her room or made any effort in her appearance in weeks and she knew it showed.

Giving up, Ginny left her room and clomped hurriedly down the two flights of stairs. As she passed through the living room, Ron and Hermione looked up in surprise at seeing her. Next to them, Harry stood up quickly and stepped in her path, opening his mouth to speak.

"Not now, Harry," Ginny said brusquely, wincing at her tone, "Sorry, it's just- I have to talk to McGonagall now."

A hurt expression crossed his face and he nodded, "Later, then?"

"Sure," Ginny said vaguely, "Maybe."

Since the end of everything, Harry had tried so many times to catch her alone in an attempt to talk to her. Ginny could tell that he wanted to try to rekindle whatever brief romance they might have had in her 5th year. Whenever he saw her, he threw her these longing, desperate, hurt looks that Ginny did her best to ignore. She felt incredibly guilty about rebuffing him- the boy had just saved the whole world, after all- but romance was the farthest thing from Ginny's mind, so she found herself inventing excuses every time she saw him. She knew her dismissals must be frustrating Harry, but _so_ much had happened and she couldn't even figure out if that was what she _wanted_ anymore, if _he_ was what she wanted.

Sighing, Ginny entered the kitchen and crouched down by the hearth. Her mother was on the other side of the room, bent over a pot of food.

"Hi, Professor," Ginny said, feeling her face stretch into a smile at the sight of McGonagall's familiar, severe features, and pursed lips. To her surprise, the fireplace roared once more and flashed green, and McGonagall stepped through into their kitchen.

McGonagall regarded Ginny seriously and Ginny flushed, knowing she must look like a mess. Then the older woman's eyes moved up and looked across the room, where Ginny's mum had turned away from her task in surprise upon hearing McGonagall arrive.

"Hello, Molly," McGonagall said, "I wonder if I might have a private word with your daughter?"

Ginny's brows lowered in confusion. _What was so private about talking about school?_ Her heart started thumping; she couldn't help but feel that familiar, nagging sense of being in trouble that McGonagall's severe presence always incited.

Her mum shot her a perplexed and anxious glance, "Is something the matter, Minerva?"

"No, nothing at all. I had just hoped to speak to Ginny alone, if you don't mind," McGonagall persisted, smiling tightly at Ginny's mum.

Molly nodded; face still creased with worry, but she wiped her hands on a towel and moved to leave the room. Satisfied, McGonagall then turned back to Ginny, regarding her with a somber expression.

"I am so sorry, Ms. Weasley, that you lost your brother, Fred. His vitality will be sorely missed."

Ginny nodded, throat tight, not trusting herself to speak. She looked away and swallowed a few times, blinking back tears, before turning her gaze back on McGonagall, brow furrowed.

"Why the privacy, Professor? I assumed you were just here to talk about school," Ginny said, attempting to get her mind off of Fred.

"Well, I am, in a way. I wondered about your plans for this autumn," McGonagall asked, "Do you plan to return to Hogwarts for your final year?"

Ginny blanched, feeling thrown by the question.

"Well, I do want to finish my education, I mean- I hadn't really thought of it- but I don't, I mean- I'm not sure if I can go back there, after-" Ginny broke off abruptly, then quickly changed tack. "So it is opening as usual, then?"

"Of course. I see no reason not to have it up and running on schedule next autumn, and students who have missed out on any part of their year as a result of the war will be welcome to return and finish their education." McGonagall explained, then tilted her head to the side and looked at Ginny contemplatively.

Ginny nodded; it made sense to have things go back to some semblance of normal, even though she didn't think things would ever feel normal again. She tried to imagine herself going back to Hogwarts next year, walking through the same hallways where she had fought Death Eaters, eating dinner in the Great Hall where people had died- where _Fred_ had died- where _she_ had nearly died- and couldn't do it. She felt a shudder ripple through her and forced herself to meet McGonagall's gaze.

"I'm not sure if I can go back there," Ginny whispered seriously, and it felt good to finally say it out loud.

McGonagall continued to regard her with that same serious expression; her lips pursed, and then she moved over to sit at the kitchen table, beckoning Ginny over. Ginny followed wearily and slumped into a chair across from her professor. She watched warily as the older woman drew out her wand and cast a quick _Muffliato_ on them. Ginny's eyes widened slightly and she _stared_ at McGonagall, wondering more than ever what McGonagall was really here to talk about.

"I'm sorry, I just can't afford to have any one overhear," McGonagall explained, looking meaningfully at the kitchen entryway. "I very much understand your reluctance to return to the school and I believe I may have a solution for you that will allow you to complete your magical education."

Ginny perched on the edge of her seat in anticipation and stared at McGonagall with a furrowed brow. McGonagall shifted on her chair, and then leaned closer to Ginny in a gesture of confidentiality.

"I wonder, Ms. Weasley, if you might have an interest in helping me with, shall we say, a mutual friend," McGonagall finally said, voice hushed, peering at Ginny meaningfully.

"I'm sorry, Professor, but what does this have to do with my education?" Ginny was thrown by this seemingly abrupt change in topic.

"You're right, I'm not being very clear. Let me attempt to be _very_ explicit," McGonagall sat back in her chair and cleared her throat; "I need your help with a project –that is, guarding someone who has been in hiding. If I am to return to Hogwarts as Headmistress next year, I'm afraid I won't have the time or energy to continue doing so as I have this past year. If you choose not to return to school, you may-"

"But, Professor, I haven't even _finished_ school- I'm not qualified for-" Ginny burst in, thoughts racing.

"If you would let me _finish_ , Ms. Weasley, my reasoning will soon become clear, "McGonagall said, shooting Ginny a stern looking over her spectacles.

Undeterred, McGonagall pushed on, speaking quickly, "If you _do_ choose not to return to school, as it sounds like you are, you may complete your magical education through correspondence courses from wherever you are. It's not an _ideal_ method of learning, but in these circumstances, and given the level of skill you have attained over the past year, I have complete confidence that you will succeed. You will be of age in August, if I am not mistaken, thus allowing you to legally take over guarding Mr. Malfoy-"

"I'm sorry, _what_?" Ginny spluttered, sure that she had misheard the name that McGonagall had just spoken so casually, "Did you say-"

McGonagall merely looked at Ginny blandly, before continuing, "Mr. Malfoy is currently residing in an Order managed unplottable safe house, where he has been for the past year, since the night on the Astronomy Tower-"

Ginny felt her mouth drop open and she gaped at McGonagall for a moment.

"I'm sorry," Ginny interrupted, shaking her head, "It's just- I assumed he had gone back to the Death Eaters when he disappeared, or that he had been _killed_ or something. So he's been- has he been- he's been on our _side_ this whole time _?_ "

McGonagall cocked her head to the side, and chuckled slightly, "Oh yes, albeit reluctantly, at first. Mr. Malfoy knew information, specifically about Malfoy Manor where the Death Eaters were based, that significantly weakened Voldemort and his followers over the past year."

Ginny's eyes were round. "So- so if he's been _helping_ us, why am I- why do I need to guard him?" Ginny stammered.

"Well, despite his defection and assistance for the past year, I'm sure you agree that Mr. Malfoy _did_ make some decisions that were not the best, so he will be spending another year or so on probation, without being allowed magic. Obviously, the boy does not deserve Azkaban, but this is not a popular opinion. There are a great number of people, _many of which are currently in this home_ , who would see him sent there for life."

McGonagall leveled a significant look at Ginny, "The plan is ultimately to obtain identification that would allow him to leave the country, as his mother has done, in order to escape scrutiny and harassment. Unfortunately, it may take some time to obtain the proper identification, since we are not able to do so above board, shall we say."

Ginny nodded dully; that made sense. He _had_ made some horrendous decisions, but she didn't believe that he deserved Azkaban, although she knew that her family would think otherwise. She was still trying to wrap her mind around the fact that he was _alive_ , while also trying to process what McGonagall wanted her to do. Ginny back-tracked through what McGonagall had told her, trying to make sense of the situation.

"So- he's to stay at this safe house, on probation for awhile, or until the proper identification comes through that will allow him to leave England- and I am to go there and _watch over_ him?"

McGonagall smiled, pleased, "Precisely."

Ginny boggled at her, "But why- why _me_?"

McGonagall cocked her head, lips turning down into a perplexed frown, "But who else would be capable of handling Mr. Malfoy? You are aware he is rather – capricious. And- I do recall that you had some form of a- _a relationship_ \- with him during your 5th year."

Ginny turned red at McGonagall's insinuation, shaking her head back and forth rapidly, "I never- we didn't-"

"I'm implying nothing, Ms. Weasley. Merely that I've seen you show concern for him and, perhaps more importantly, you seem to know how to deal with him. Do you not agree?"

Ginny found herself nodding reluctantly, feeling like she knew nothing of the sort. If only McGonagall knew how unsteady and off balance she always felt in Malfoy's presence.

"So where has he been staying? Is that where I am to go?" Ginny asked abruptly.

McGonagall looked at her, a satisfied smile crossing her lips. "So am I to take it that you will accept the task?

"Sure, fine. I'll do it." Ginny waved a hand carelessly, persisting, "But where has he _been_?"

"I'm afraid I can't tell you that, but at the end of the summer, he will be moved to a new safe house- one that you might be familiar with," McGonagall paused, meeting Ginny's eyes, "Shell Cottage?"

"But-," Ginny gaped at McGonagall, "That's where my brother Bill lives, with Fleur. How is that-"

"Do you recall that your sister-in-law works for the Department of Mysteries?" McGonagall cut in smoothly.

"Yes, I suppose."

"Well- Fleur helped me set up the arrangement for his current location; she and Bill have agreed to use Shell Cottage as the new safe house."

Ginny gawked at McGonagall again. She was certain that she had spent at least half of this conversation with her mouth hanging open.

"So, Bill knows? About _Malfoy_?"

"Of course." McGonagall thin lips tilted into a small smile.

"And he's _okay_ with it?"

"Your oldest brother has always been quite reasonable. He was skeptical at first, but he understands and is committed to the task." McGonagall's voice softened, "Besides, I thought it might be helpful for you to have someone familiar with you. You will need to be quite isolated over the next year or so, as I'm sure you understand."

"Yes, of course," Ginny agreed, not feeling terribly concerned by this.

"You won't be able to see your family much- or any friends." McGonagall continued.

"I understand, Professor. I don't think they'll question it much- I've been pretty –off- since being back home. I think it will make sense for me to want to get away for awhile."

McGonagall nodded at Ginny, then slowly stood up. "Well, I should be going, then. I shall contact you in August to finalize our plans. In the meantime, get some rest and take care of yourself, is that understood, Ms. Weasley? You'll need to be at the top of your game, of course."

"Yes, I understand. I will be-," Ginny stated emphatically, "Professor- thanks for this- I won't- I won't let you down."

"I'm sure you won't, Ginny," McGonagall smiled kindly at Ginny, and then waved her wand, ending the _Muffliato_ charm. Then she stepped back into the fireplace, whooshing away in a cloud of green smoke. Ginny remained staring at the place she'd been for a long moment, then turned and rushed from the kitchen, nearly falling as she knocked sharply into her mother, who had been hovering by the doorway. Molly put her hands on Ginny's shoulders to steady her and slow her down.

"Ginny?" Molly asked, hands fluttering frantically above Ginny's shoulders, "What on earth did Minerva want? And why did she case a _Muffliato,_ for Godric's sake? You're not in trouble, are you?"

Distantly, Ginny was aware that Harry, Ron, and Hermione were still in the nearby living room and could probably hear every word that was being said.

" _No_ , Mum, of course I'm not in trouble," Ginny mumbled, "We were just having a talk about my plans for school next year and wanted some privacy, that's all."

"Oh, well, alright then," Molly said, but she sounded unsure, and her mouth was turned down into an uncertain frown.

"Yep," Ginny continued brightly, "I'm going to be talking classes by post for my last year and living at Shell Cottage with Bill."

"Oh!" Molly exclaimed, looking startled, "Well- that's- good, I suppose." Ginny's mum's face softened and she place a warm hand on Ginny's cheek.

"You have had a rough time of it, haven't you dear?"

"Yes. It will be good to get away and have some peace and quiet," Ginny said solemnly, although privately she wondered how much peace and quiet she could expect with a volatile Malfoy around.

"But- Shell Cottage-," Molly mused, "I wonder why Bill didn't mention anything?"

"Dunno," Ginny said, backing away from her mum's touch in the direction of the stairs, "I'm actually headed back upstairs to write him now."

"Alright, dear," Molly called, "Dinner's at 6 sharp!"

"I'll be down," Ginny promised.


End file.
